


This Ought to Be Different

by evening_spirit



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Temple of Five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evening_spirit/pseuds/evening_spirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A completelly nutty take on the "Rapture" AU. Unbetaed, unhinged and not sure if readable at all. But I remember that I 'd enjoyed writing it like WHOA!</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ought to Be Different

**Disclaimer:** not mine, not intended to violate anyones copyrights.

\---

 **This Ought to Be Different**

 **Chapter One**

\---

The first thing she was aware of, was a hard object pressing on her side. Then she was aware of a cold surface under her cheek, and a red flashing light behind her eye lids . . . Her eyes were closed! She snapped them open, and jolted upright.

A hundred hammers went loose inside her skull. She lifted her hand to touch her temple but her palms were in gloves and bandaged, so she felt nothing, only dulling pain where the glove touched the cranium.

Then she heard a noise. A few noises: buzzing, rhythmic moaning and . . . well . . . Not so rhythmic moaning. The first one was artificial and was in sync with the red flashing light to her left. The second one came from behind a . . . behind a something. Something she found difficult to name, because it seemed to be in a position it was not supposed to be.

She tried to crawl around the thing, and see if there was someone, maybe injured, but as she peeked around the corner she met bright blue eyes of a beautiful blonde woman. That one was certainly not injured, as she smiled broadly.

"Well, how about that?" the woman asked. "Looks like we haven't made it after all."

Why was she so joyful about that? Ah! She was tied up! So she was a prisoner, she . . . Didn't want them to make it . . . Make what exactly?

A moaning reminded her about that someone she wanted to check up, so she looked around. There were two men and a woman lying in odd stances in the undersized space of that something they were in. One of the men was squeezed between two objects sparkling with electrical discharge; he was not moaning. The other had blood all over his face and arm, lay under some heavy object and, as she moved farther, she saw that his leg was bent at an unnatural angle. That must have hurt . . . The other woman – the unconscious one – was also stirring, so hopefully she was about to wake up.

"I would help you," the blonde spoke, seeing her trying to lift the heavy object from the bloodied man. "If you'd only cut those." She lifted her hands, the rope dangling down to her ankles and up to her neck.

"Umm . . . I don't think so."

"Umm, I didn't either."

"Holy frak!" the other, dark haired woman moaned finally. "Starbuck? Hades' forges, What happened?"

"Honestly? I have no idea."

"Oh" the brunette lifted her hand to her forehead, slightly dazed. Apparently there were some hammers inside her head, too. "We must have crashed . . . Careful!" she shrieked suddenly, because one of the men – the one not-so-bloodied – moved, and nearly touched the screeching cable.

"Lords of Kobol!" he exclaimed, and moved his hand away. Winced, coughed slightly and looked around. He assessed the situation in one glance – the damage, the injured colleague, and three women. "Sit-rep," he barked to the one who knew the least. The brunette also looked at her questioningly.

She gasped uncertain what they wanted.

"Starbuck, sit-rep!"

"I am sitting," she replied hesitantly.

Both – the man and the brunette – gazed at each other with alarm. The blonde behind her back chuckled slightly. But before either of them managed to say anything, the other man cried out in pain. Starbuck – she had to be Starbuck, both of them used that name – was at his side in an instant, the brunette followed suit. The man was a little slower, as he needed to drag himself from the trap he'd fallen into.

"Dee, get the med-kit" the man said to the girl, and she jumped and started dashing through some debris at the bottom of the room. "Don't move, Sam."

"If I may suggest something . . ." the blonde started, but was cut short.

"You may not," the man hissed.

"I'd say we should get out of the raptor" she finished nonetheless. "You smell the fuel? Those sparks," she nodded towards the cables, "and fuel aren't exactly the best company."

The man looked behind him, holding Sam's chest firmly, preventing him from moving. Then he gazed at the thing laying on top of his colleague.

"We gotta lift this!" he instructed. "Starbuck, give me a hand."

Starbuck crawled closer. She found the man's approach comforting – his immediate assuming of command, his knowing what to do; she had no idea what to do. She looked into his eyes – very blue eyes, she noticed – as they got ready to lift the weight. He only nodded and she obeyed his unspoken order. But just as they pushed – they backed off immediately. He started coughing and holding his side, and her thousand hammers cut loose again. She moaned clutching her head.

"You hit . . ." he coughed, "hit your head?"

"Don't know" she replied with strain.

"Can't find it" they heard a frightened voice from below.

"Great" the blonde commented with contempt.

"Shut it!" the man spat, and neared the brunette. Dee – Starbuck remembered. Her name was Dee, the moaning, bloodied man's name was Sam – he still moaned – her name was Starbuck, she didn't know the names of the blue-eyed man and the blonde. And they were in a raptor that might go 'boom' anytime.

"There" the blue-eyed man pointed at something.

"I haven't seen it" Dee whimpered.

"It's okay" he stroke her tangled dark hair and she looked up, tears shining in her eyes.

"You think they are waiting?"

"Of course. Try to get it out," he commanded and returned to Sam's side. He looked up at Starbuck. "How's your head?"

"Hurts."

"You know where we are?"

"In a raptor?" she tried.

"And a raptor is? . . ."

"Hmmm . . ."

He sighed, there was a deep worry in his blue eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt your chat," the blonde cut in again, "but if you cut these," she indicated her restraints, "I could help you. You know – lift this thing, and even carry him out. How 'bout that?"

Starbuck looked at the woman incredulously. She was probably tall, though it was hard to say when she was crumpled like this, but she seemed to be of slender posture. She would carry a man twice her weight?

But the blue-eyed gritted his teeth, neared her and cut the rope with one swift move. "Try anything and you're dead," he warned.

The blonde beamed at him, "I'm so scared."

Then she neared Sam, and lifted the heavy object as if it was a cardboard box. She kneeled beside the man and threw him over her arm. He cried again when his leg was moved.

"Careful!" Starbuck screamed.

"We'll strap this outside," the blonde instructed and turned towards the blue-eyed, who was already trying to open the hatch. It was in a wall above them, at a weird angle. The man had some problems opening it, but finally managed with brunette's help. Then they both assisted the blonde with carrying out crying Sam. Finally Starbuck joined them outside.

The first thing she noticed was that it was windy. Very windy. Then she looked at the sky, and though realizing she couldn't remember seeing any other sky, she knew it had never looked quite like this. It was obviously the night, as right above them a few stars sparkled, but they were dimmed by the bright blue fire, that seemed to burn from below the horizon all around them.

"Frak," the blonde whispered.

"Lords . . ." the blue-eyed accompanied her.

"We've got to get to the Temple," the blonde urged.

"We should try get a few things from the raptor," the man countered.

"Put me down," Sam cut in, his voice marred by pain.

"Put him down!" blue-eyed ordered.

"We gotta go" the blonde refused to comply.

"I. Said," the man started and there was no defying this time. There was an undeniable power in his posture, in his eyes, and in a gun he held towards the blonde. He didn't even have to finish; she put Sam on the ground.

"I'm not sure if you realize what the situation is," she hissed with force however, stepping so close to him, that her face hovered above his. "The sun has just gone nova. The only place we are safe, is in the Temple, but we must get there before down, or even faster. The other side of the planet is being burned as we speak, rocks are melting, the atmosphere is being blown out to the vacuum."

"If that is true, then how will we be safe anywhere on this rock?" the man asked. "We're dead already, there's nothing we can do!"

"We'll be safe in the Temple," she stressed. "Trust me. I know."

\---

 **Chapter Two**

\---

"I'm not sure if you realize what the situation is," the blonde hissed with force, stepping so close to the blue-eyed man, that her face hovered above his. "The sun has just gone nova. The only place we are safe, is in the Temple, but we must get there before down, or even faster. The other side of the planet is being burned as we speak, rocks are melting, the atmosphere is being blown out to the vacuum."

"If that is true, then how will we be safe anywhere on this rock?" he asked. "We're dead already, there's nothing we can do!"

"We'll be safe in the Temple," she stressed. "Trust me. I know."

He looked at her, then looked around. And as Starbuck caught a glimpse of his eyes, she saw something like a resignation there.

"You're not planning of giving up now, are you?" she asked him, and he turned to her, the reflexes of hellish blue light in his pupils making his gaze even more fierce. "Why don't we just assume she's right?" Starbuck tried.

The tall blonde saw his hesitation, too, "I don't have the time to explain the details to you right now! We gotta  _move_!" she shrieked and her voice was terrifying.

For a brief second Starbuck saw the blue-eyed compose himself internally, then he turned to the blonde, "Listen Shelly, or whatever your name is, even if the Temple may provide us shelter – although I don't see how; you said rocks were melting! – we need to have food, water and medicine. You can turn off your hunger; we cannot." He breathed heavily in and out a few times. "Now, I'm getting back into the raptor to get one of the algae containers, and you are coming down with me. You two strap his leg," he motioned towards the semi-conscious Sam, "and give him something for the pain. We'll get the stretcher."

He stepped towards the entrance and seeing that Shelly hadn't moved, glared at her. "I don't care if the raptor explodes," he hissed. "I'd rather die in a bang, than of hunger."

Not waiting any longer he descended through the hatch. Shelly followed him unenthusiastically.

Starbuck, not quite knowing how to take care of the injured, kneeled beside Sam and tried to hold his hand. It turned out to be quite difficult with her own hands bandaged, but his eyes opened and she saw recognition in them. He knew her. And he must have liked her, because he tried to smile in spite of all the pain he was in.

"Your-head-" he tried to speak, but she placed her palm on his lips.

"I'll be fine," she whispered.

She looked at the brunette, skillfully wrapping Sam's injured leg. Starbuck's first impression had been that the girl would freak out any moment. Now she seemed much more collected and even competent. But then Dee cast a swift glance at the raptor, and Starbuck realized why – it was because of the authority the blue-eyed radiated. His strength made Dee stronger. And – Starbuck had to admit it – it made her stronger, too.

Sam recoiled as Dee unbuckled his pants, slid them down exposing skin on his thigh, and thrust the needle injecting the pain-medicine.

"You'll be better in a moment," she told him, though he probably didn't take notice. Then she looked up at Starbuck. "Your hands don't hurt?"

Starbuck looked at her palms, surprised. She hadn't thought about it so far, but no, they didn't. She shook her head. She wondered if it was the brunette who bandaged them.

Dee stood up and approached the hatch just in time to help Shelly drag out the large and heavy container. Not that her effort changed anything for the unhumanly strong blonde. The blue-eyed climbed out behind them, coughing and favoring his right side. Then he pulled up water bowl and a stretcher.

He stood up and looked at their small group, heavy boxes and a limp form of his colleague. Scratched his chin, concern written all over his face.

"Okay, mister wise guy," Shelly mocked. "Now how do we take it all? Do you expect me to carry everything?"

"No," he spat. "Dee, can you lift that?" He pointed at the container.

The petite brunette made a curious face and attempted to move the box a few feet. She succeeded.

"Fine. Kara, you'll take water, Shelly and I will take Sam. Which way to the Temple?" he turned to the blonde.

"Try here" she pointed her finger at the rocks above them, and moved to place Sam on the stretcher. "And my name is not Shelly. You may call me Six."

"I don't care." He bent to help her. "And I won't call you a number." Together they transported Sam, she threw the med-kit across her back, then they lifted the stretcher. The blue-eyed gasped as his breath caught, but regained his balance. He led the way. Starbuck hesitated, but apparently he meant her when he said "Kara", so she picked the bowl, and followed the rest.

The climb wasn't easy, and strong chilling wind wasn't helping much. Starbuck came near Dee.

"Need a hand with that?" she asked seeing as the girl tried to drag it, then push it, then pull.

Dee stopped and shot her a glare. "Well, given that you are our expert on out-of-the-box thinking, maybe you have a better idea how to get this up there?" she scorned, and suddenly Starbuck thought the brunette wasn't very fond of her. "Meanwhile I'll do what I can, because apparently Lee thinks you need to be spared or something."

Starbuck gazed up at their leader and the blonde. The two had just stopped, Lee doubled over. Shelly, or Six, or whatever her name was – was saying something to him, and though they weren't ahead more than a few meters, the voice died away in the wailing of the wind. Sam started dragging himself to his feet, but the blonde put a hand on his arm and grounded him effectively. He started arguing, but she ignored him and returned to the two women.

Starbuck watched her feet with bewilderment – Shelly was wearing high heels, and walked through the chaotically dispersed rocks on a steep slope, as if it was a cat-walk.

"What?" the woman asked, catching Starbuck's gaze. "The only shoes in my size they had on the basestar were high heels! You think I like it?" she snorted, trying to restrain her platinum-blonde hair that flailed wildly around her face.

Starbuck said nothing to that, and Shelly came up to Dee. "Give me that," she wrenched the container from the smaller woman's grasp. "You go, take care of your husbands!" She turned away and started climbing again.

Starbuck looked up at the two men, suddenly frightened.  _Your husbands_ , Shelly said, one of them was her husband! And she wondered which. Trying to cover her uneasiness, she decided to simply follow Dee. So when the brunette stopped near Sam, who was trying to get up, Starbuck strode ahead towards Lee.

"You're sure you're up to it?" she heard Dee's concerned question as the girl helped Sam stand.

"It doesn't hurt," he replied weakly, and accepted her arm. When Starbuck passed them – nearing Lee, swallowing hard – Sam whispered, "You sure about that? Guess, she's stronger, if nothing else-"

Dee replied in a whisper too, "She seems to have a concussion. Probably-" The rest of her words faded away in the wind.

Starbuck stopped next to the blue-eyed. Now she felt guilty of not remembering him. He looked up, and wheezed, "I'm 'kay".

She helped him stand straighter, and attempted to support him, while he walked, but he brushed her off.

"Don't. You have-" he lost breath again.

"A concussion, I know."

"You shouldn't strain-" he didn't finish again, but she understood.

"I won't," she promised. And just to ease his worry for her, added, "Besides I'm really not feeling bad at all. Other than . . . memory loss that is."

He nodded, smiling, and gathered his strength, to speak again, "That's because Dee-gave you pain meds-for your hands-" he struggled. Unnecessarily, she'd figured that out already. "If you start getting-nauseous-or something-let us know-okay?"

"Sure," she confirmed. "You seem pretty banged up, too," tried to divert his attention.

"I'm fine," he said again, and fell silent, apparently realizing that talking and walking, while he could barely breathe, was too difficult.

The wind was so strong, Starbuck too had problems taking a breath sometimes, and he was clutching his side, his step uneven. Probably had some broken ribs. He stumbled and leaned on a rock.

"You feel that?" he asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Feel what?" She placed her palm next to his. And even through thick layers of a glove and bandages she felt trembling. Then she felt it under her feet, too. The ground was trembling. Not shaking, rocks weren't falling, or being rearranged, it was just this constant faint vibration.

She looked at him, at the burning sky . . .

Shelly was up on the top of the slope, she came from behind the rocky formation, her fair hair whirling in the wind, making a bluish halo around her dangerously beautiful face. She held them back, casting her companions a glance then shook her head and walked down with determination.

"I can't understand why I'm helping you," she snorted passing Starbuck and Lee.

"I can't either" Lee breathed out, though she couldn't hear his whisper. She came to Sam and Dee supporting him, and placed herself under his other arm.

Dee and Sam were an odd couple to Starbuck's tastes. She was so tiny, and he so tall. But still they looked well together. Sighing she turned back to Lee, who was supposed to be her husband. She wished she remembered anything.

The ground was constantly shuddering while they slowly ascended towards the mysterious Temple.

\---

 **Chapter Three.**

\---

Lee was slowing down with each step. Soon Shelly, Sam and Dee passed them – the blonde nearly dragging the man, and Dee supporting him enough, so he wouldn't injure his leg any more. She turned to glare at the twosome, but continued to climb without a word.

Kara cast a glance at her companion. He dragged one foot after another, his mouth gaping, muscles strained, holding a hand to his chest. She felt compelled to help him, but he'd rebuff her, she knew that. So she kept him company, that was all she could do.

They reached the top of the hill finally, and with final effort Lee dragged himself to the horizontal plateau in front of the crag. There was an opening in this crag, a dark tunnel.

But Lee looked the opposite direction, and Starbuck followed his gaze.

The scenery was surreal. Hills, the terrain, bushes, stones, ground, everything was immersed in this bright sapphire light. The sky at the horizon was so dazzling it was impossible to look upon, the blue fire soared toward zenith. There were no stars anymore, no blackness even, as if the night ended. But they couldn't have walked for longer than an hour! A half an hour. Starbuck wasn't certain of her sense of time.

Down in the opening between two slopes, sea waters were heating up, vaporizing, the mist ascending, clinging to the ground with white milky feelers.

Suddenly somewhere to their left the ground broke, and a fountain of bright orange melted rocks sprung toward the sky.

"We're not gonna survive this." Kara barely heard her companion's whisper through the wind and roar of the destroyed planet.

She swirled to face him. "We are! Shelly said-" She gestured toward the opening in the rocks, where their three friends had just disappeared.

Lee only shook his head, to exhausted to argue. She held his face up, between her palms, and looked deep into his blue eyes. Maybe she didn't remember him, or love him, but she wasn't going to let him give up.

"Listen, maybe we're not going to survive, but we'll get in there right now, and if we die, we die trying to make it out of here alive. Okay?"

He gazed at her, startled. His lips moved, forming words that did not come out, "I-d-"

"You want to make it out of here alive, don't you?"

"I do."

Just before they moved, Dee came running back. "Are you co-" she screamed and stopped at the sight of the two of them. "-ming?" she completed her sentence, glancing at Kara, then at Lee, then back at Kara. Then she turned around and let them follow her inside.

Lee strived to catch up with her, Kara saw him place a hand on her back, she shrugged it off, he bent to whisper something into her ear. She turned around.

"I just don't know anymore," she whispered looking up at him, her eyes teary. "where I stand."

"Come on!" Shelly screamed in her high-pitched intense voice. "I'm closing these door. Do you want to end up on this side, or that?"

They hurried, then they helped Shelly close and secure the door. Once she was sure they were sheltered, she walked toward the middle of the room.

Kara looked around. The cave they were in was astounding. Really huge, really high. She felt like a worthless atom of dust in the face of the Powers. There was a gigantic column in the middle of the room – Shelly strode toward it – surrounded by five chamfered pentagonal pillars. All around the floor there lay scattered pieces of some equipment, apparently left by someone in haste. Sam sat propped against a box a few meters form the entrance – whether it was their own algae container or some other item Kara couldn't tell, and didn't bother really.

She looked back at the column. In the bluish light coming from some kind of reflectors, she noticed a shape, a motif that seemed familiar. The first thing, that she found recognizable since her memory loss – something round, a yellow, green and red rings, surrounded by flames, rotating flames.

The image made her dizzy and she staggered.

"Kara!" she heard a voice.

"What is she- doing?" she heard a strained question, when her balance returned.

It was Lee, and he was trying to follow Shelly, but his knees gave way, and he swayed, his weight falling on Kara. She caught him instinctively, Dee grasping his other arm.

"Lee!" she screamed.

"Gotta-" he struggled to say, he struggled to get up, but a coughing fit stopped him. When it passed, he held Dee's arm. "Go-" he gasped. "Watch her-"

Dee cast a terrified glance at the blonde, standing in front of the large column. Then she looked back at Lee, but he went limp in Starbuck's arms, his eyes rolling back. Dee gazed up at the other woman.

"Go!" Kara urged. If that was what he ordered, it had to be the right move, he knew what was going on. She had no idea. No frakking idea!

She was distressed, she realized, looking after the slender brunette, who run toward the center of the room. It was Dee who knew how to take care of the injured, not her!

"Put him down," she heard a voice next to her. Sam. He crawled to them, dragging the med-kit along.

Kara gently put Lee's lifeless form on the floor.

"He got hit, when we were searching for you. The jacket may have saved his life, but it was a close range," Sam informed her, while removing Lee's cloths. The unconscious man's face contorted in pain. "Then we had a close encounter with Six- Shelly- Whatever." He looked over at the tall blonde and tiny brunette pacing around the column and pillars, searching for something. Kara could easily tell he longed to be there, he was a man of action; sitting behind, trapped, was making him anxious.

"Give me a hand will you," he requested, annoyed, as she sat unmoving next to him. Kara held Lee, while Sam took off the jacket. "Then we crashed. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a few broken ribs."

This most certainly wasn't the first time Kara was undressing Lee, but it still made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't remember the body under those tank-tops, muscled arms however were enough to make her heart beat faster. Sam handed her scissors to cut Lee's wear and she took a deep breath before she put them to the fabric. She cut through and uncovered the left, uninjured half of his body. She wondered why? Was she curious how he looked? She was rewarded with a godly sight of well sculpted muscles, tanned skin, a few manly hairs.

Before the urge to caress this body took over, Sam removed the material from the right side of his chest, and . . . Starbuck had to retreat when sickness punched her right between the eyes with the sight of purple and violet bruises.

She jumped away and heaved, ignoring Sam's concerned "Kara?" She waved him off, hoping he'd first take care of Lee. She was fine. Wasn't she? Nausea passed, but she was still dizzy. The air in the room was getting more and more blue.

Kara looked up at the column. At the very top of it she noticed bright blue crystals – five of them. And though their light was intense, she was able to make out their shape – they were obviously resembling five stony pillars below. A ray of vibrant blue light shone straight up from each of those crystals toward the same five crystals hanging in the seal of the dome.

Kara blinked. The rays were getting shorter as crystals from the top of the column and those from the dome were nearing one another.

The air was tainted red.

Kara held her breath, searching for the source of the new color, and saw – right above the five reflectors attached to the column – some kind of ribbed apparatus, that was turning red, as if heating up. Red turned to orange, orange to yellow, yellow to white . . .

Time stopped, Kara felt herself getting heavy, too heavy, too large, too long, too long . . .

\---

 **Chapter Four.**

\---

Red turned to orange, orange to yellow, yellow to white . . .

Time stopped, Kara felt herself getting heavy, too heavy, too large, too long. Too long . . .

And then time moved again and everything returned to normal.

Except that all the illumination from the reflectors vanished, and the only source of light were three lamps laying on the floor of the Temple.

"We jumped-" Sam breathed out. "Can you believe that? We jumped away from the planet!"

Kara turned to him and gazed incredulously. Did that mean they were safe?

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned. She could barely make out his face in the dim light.

"Just dizzy."

"We need to take a look at that head of yours. Can you get some light over here?"

She got up obediently, fighting another wave of nausea, and strode to the nearest lamp. Picked it up and came to sit next to Sam. He took a cloth and started cleaning up the wound on her forehead. It itched a little.

"What about your leg?" she asked. "Dee only strapped it, didn't set it."

He cleared his throat, "I know. We'll get to it."

She noticed him casting a glance at the column, now barely visible, and two figures standing next to it. They were talking fervently in risen voices, obviously arguing, but were too far for the words to be heard.

"What do you think happened?" Sam asked. "What did she do?"

"I have no idea," Kara replied and looked up where the crystals and the dome were. There was nothing but a dark void now, but she could swear the crystals glimmered a little, catching any light they could from even the tiniest sources.

Sam followed her gaze. "What?"

"Didn't you see it?"

"I was taking care of the Major. What happened?"

Kara hesitated. She wanted to tell Sam, but she looked at the still form lying next to them. "How is he?"

Sam sighed. "I dunno, there are no cuts, no signs of impending infection. I'm not a doctor, and even if I were, I don't have all the gear, I can't tell if his lungs are intact or not. Guess we'll have to wait and see." He leaned to listen to the breaths of the injured man, that were so shallow now, they were barely perceptible.

Kara watched this with complete lack of involvement. Gods, the man she was supposed to love could die, and she didn't . . .

". . . really care."

"What?" Sam gasped.

She flinched. Had no idea she spoke any of this aloud. "Nothing, I- I know this may sound strange, but- I don't really love him now-"

"Don't-" Sam cut in with an odd look in his eyes. "I don't- I don't wanna know." He shook his head. "Sorry I asked." Returned to dabbing her forehead. She could see his face from so close now, his jaw working, lips tightly shut. He despised her.

"Listen, Sam, this is-" she started to explain, she didn't want to be misunderstood! She only didn't remember, nothing more . . .

But he didn't let her, "Stop! Please." He looked at her, his dark pupils full of hurt. "I don't know you any more. What? You mess around with the man, but when he's dying you just detach yourself from him? Are you so afraid of losing someone, that you think it's better to cut off any feelings you have? Or have you really never felt anything? What if it was me, lying here, dying, would you-" he stopped suddenly, and turned to the med-kit, searching for a dressing. "I know you wouldn't, why am I even asking?" he murmured.

Found what he was searching for, taped to her forehead, not saying anything more, nor looking her in the eyes.

And she started to think it was all much more complicated than she initially believed. Dee seemed taken aback seeing the two of them together outside the Temple, now Sam asked weird questions. What was really going on?

She was tired, and a sound of pointed firm footsteps saved her from pondering on all of this.

Shelly approached them, with Dee right at her heels. The tall woman looked at Lee's still form, shook her head, sighed, then gazed at a very confused Starbuck, at Sam, and her face reflected pure irritation.

"Alright," she sighed once more. "I'll tell you what I know." Stood straight, her hands folded behind her back, chin risen proudly, gazing at them intensely, her face an impenetrable mask. "As you may be aware of, the Scriptures were written in a language that allows different interpretations. One of those interpretations is that it was built as a shelter for the five priests- or five prophets- So when I realized that we've crashed practically at the feet of the Temple, that we were in a grave danger, thus in a desperate need of a shelter, and that there were five of us- I thought it was too much to be a coincidence. It seemed wise to take that chance." She stopped and took a deep breath, but remained silent for a few heart bits, deciding how much more she was going to reveal.

"When we entered the Temple," she picked up when no one helped her make up her mind, "I was trying to figure out what we were supposed to do, so the Temple would really give us shelter. But I didn't do anything." She turned to Dee. "That's right." Turned back to Sam and Kara. "I don't know what activated the Temple, and what triggered the jump. That's all."

"Wow!" said Sam.

"Yeah-" sighed Kara.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Sam.

"I know what I'll do," replied Kara. "I'll go get some sleep."

She really was exhausted, her mind foggier and foggier. She needed rest, so she curled up on the floor, but before she knew it, both Sam and Dee were on her.

"No, you can't!"

"You have a concussion!"

Frak!

"So?" she whimpered. "I can't even rest, when I'm tired?"

"Well, no," Dee forced her back to a sitting position. "You cannot sleep, even if you're tired." She gazed around. "I think I know what we should do now. We'll take care of all those injuries."

She checked the bandage on Kara's head, than evaluated Lee, still lying motionless on the floor, then again Kara – her hands – and finally looked at Sam's leg.

"He's out cold," Sam voiced her thoughts, nodding toward Lee. "Won't move, won't hurt himself any more than he's already hurt."

"That leaves you for the starters," Dee replied with a half-smile. "Six, I'll need a hand, could use your help too, Starbuck."

The three women gathered around Sam, Six to hold him, Kara to help, but more to keep herself occupied than really be of any assistance. Dee started removing the bandage and splint.

Sam gritted his teeth; every movement caused pain. "This thing you gave me- wasn't morpha?"

"Nope. We only have one left, thought I'd save it for a special occasion."

She cut his pants and exposed twisted, bruised knee-joint. Nudged it lightly, and moved her hands to grip his ankle. "Ready?" As he slightly nodded she pulled with all her strength.

His dreadful scream echoed through the vast space of the Temple.

And even though he fought a little against Six's strong arms, a moment later he passed out. Dee felt his knee-joint snap into place. She exhaled, "Good." Turned around to pick up the splint, and put it back in place. "Now we gotta asses that concussion of yours, Starbuck," she talked, while strapping up. "Have some memory loss, don't you?"

"Total."

"Total?"

"I have no idea who I am," Kara explained impatiently. She thought she'd talked about it with someone already. "Or who you are. Or her-" She looked at Shelly, still sitting next to her. Behind the blonde she spotted the huge column again. And the round swirling shape. "I only remember one thing-" she whispered.

"Wait a minute!" Dee snapped suddenly, and stopped ministering to Sam's knee. Turned around and in a blink of an eye was at Lee's side.

"What do you remember?" asked Shelly, as Kara still sat transfixed, staring at the barely visible column and seeing the whirlpool of gold, green and red, surrounded by golden rays. Rotating, rotating faster.

"I'm not sure," Kara replied in a whisper. "But I've seen that symbol already."

"That round symbol?"

Kara stood up, swaying slightly. Shelly was at her side in an instant, supported her. Together they walked to the column.

"Where did you see it?"

"I have no idea."

"How could you have seen it?"

They stopped, and Kara traced the relief lightly, with awe.

"I think I painted it," she whispered.

She was no longer aware of the woman standing next to her, staring at her in astonishment. She was not aware of the darkened Temple, and presence of other people anywhere near, or empty space outside, or the fate or purpose of the ancient artifact.

She was dragged by the whirlpool, dragged into the spinning entity, deeper and deeper, and deeper . . .

Six caught her falling. Mesmerized by the implications of everything that happened that day, the cylon thought for the first time that she had been wrong all along. She had been so certain she'd known what was her place in God's Plan. Then again she ignored this one – Starbuck – when the woman was nearly forcing herself into the pattern. Damn, she was jealous of Baltar's affection for the pilot! While she should have supported it. Or perhaps not? Perhaps it was God's plan to get them into this place this way?

She couldn't hear God's voice any longer.

\---

 **Chapter Five.**

\---

This was a long day for everyone, but for this Six it was a day that changed everything. Earlier this morning she'd been nothing more than a vision in Gaius Baltar's mind. Now she had a body that obeyed her will and her will only.

Earlier this morning God's plan had been laid in a clear path ahead of her, now all she had was confusion.

She stared at the woman standing next to her, entranced, stroking the golden, green and red circles. "We're here," Kara whispered, touching the golden sun-rays.

Shelly, startled, looked over at the spacious hall, and other humans cuddled in the dark.

The day was long for them, too. For Lieutenant Dualla it started with disappointment, when she'd seen her husband rushing to greet the unruly pilot he was in love with. Then everything had gone downhill. Cylons had cut them off Galactica. Starbuck had crashed, and, of course, Lee had sent his wife to save his lover. Then Starbuck had been in too much pain for Dee to loatheher. Then Dee had realized she'd have to fly them both out of there, but at the same moment Lee and Anders had came out of nowhere, dragging a tied up cylon, model Shelly Godfrey, with them. Despite Lee's efforts, their raptor hadn't flown more than few hundred yards, when it'd crashed into the mountain side, resulting in everybody, except Dee and the cylon, getting hurt.

And now, instead of hating and reproaching her husband, Dee crouched beside him and whispered soothing words.

Anders' scream must have woken him up, because he looked around frightened and confused.

"What-happen-" he breathed out, his hand clutching his chest.

"Shh, it's okay. You're hurt, you have some broken ribs, that's why you can't breathe-"

"No-" he shook his head feebly. "Not that-cylon-where?-what's she doin?-"

"She's-" Dee looked up just in time to see Six and Starbuck get up and walk to the column. "She's right here."

"Watch her-Learn-Can't let'er-"

"No. It's okay." Dee grasped his hand in an attempt to be reassuring, but giving the vibe of desperation rather than reliability. "She doesn't know anything. She's just as confused as we are."

"So?-" his eyes finally focused on the woman next to him. "How's she goin' to-the Temple-save us. How?"

"Oh. We're safe. We jumped away from the planet."

Lee blinked, not wasting precious breath on asking how the frak was that possible. His expression said enough.

"The Temple," Dee tried to explain. "It's some kind of a star-ship. And when we entered it spun up FTL and . . ." She spread her arms. "Shelly didn't do anything, I saw it. I was there."

"Where are we?"

To that Dee could only nod and say, "That's a good question."

Lee was lucid enough to finally take in his surroundings. He looked at the tall obelisk towering above the round room. He looked at it's base . . . just in time to catch the sight of Kara falling into the cylon's arms.

"Kara!" he wheezed, his first impulse to leap up. But his body refused; soaring pain shot through his chest, and he collapsed on his side, gasping for breath.

"Stay down, Lee. Stay down!" Dee desperately tried to hold him still.

At the same time, she desperately wanted to run and save Starbuck from the cylon's hands.

That was the moment Sam chose to wake up from his pain-inducted coma, and groan.

Dee shot a glance at him, "Stay down, Sam!"

Then she looked back at Lee; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open, struggling to remain conscious, but inevitably slipping into oblivion.

Then she gazed at Kara. Shelly already got up, carrying motionless body in her arms, and walked back to the humans.

"What happened?" Dee run to her.

"She collapsed-" Six hesitated. She was aware that those people were crucial to her survival, Starbuck most of all. But she'd told them enough already to gain their trust. Proof enough that she was still running free. "I did nothing, we just walked over to the column, and there she collapsed."

"Put her down."

Kara was breathing, and her heartbeat was steady, she was only unconscious. Only, but more than enough. Dee didn't think she'd be able to do anything for the pilot at that moment.

She run back to Sam.

"Don't move, I need to splint that leg of yours, finally."

"What's wrong with Kara?" his voice was thick from worry and pain. He needed to be there, at Kara's side. But he couldn't move.

Dee injected him with another dose of pain medication – not morpha, though – and sighed. Tried to explain the situation as best as she could, "Kara has a concussion. And she lost consciousness."

"In other words it's bad?" Sam was sure the slender brunette wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes.

She did, though. Stopped bandaging his knee, and looked straight at him. "Chances are she'll wake up," she stated. "But she may not."

He nodded. She nodded too, and returned to her job.

Then she requested his assistance in bandaging Lee's broken ribs. Then, very carefully, she removed Kara's flight-suit and took care of her burned fingers.

Finally she looked at the only two conscious people in the room. One was an enemy, whom she could not trust; the other was not even military, was immobilized and not really of any help as he only had eyes for unconscious Starbuck.

"We should try to decipher the symbols on the column," the cylon said.

Dee spun to look at her. "The symbols?"

"You have any better idea?" Shelly mocked. "Maybe you're going to entertain yourself with staring at the ceiling and listening to his breath?"

"No!" Dee spat through clenched teeth and got up. "I'm going to look over the stores left by Tyrol and his gang." She rushed to gather the containers, boxes and lamps in one place, attempting to sort them.

"Whenever you get bored with that, I could use your help," the cylon smiled broadly, and walked in another direction. She snagged one of the lamps, but Dee grabbed it, too.

"We must preserve the energy," she hissed. She was so edgy, she thought she might jump the cylon and hit her.

"Oh, really?" Shelly jerk the lamp from the Lieutenant's grasp with ease. "You think you'll live longer than those lamps will shine? If you don't help me with those writings, you'll rot away in here."

"I thought with that digital brain of yours, you'd crack it in no-time!"

Shelly cocked her head to the side, her eyes sparkling dangerously, and curiously all the same. "I will decipher it. But if you don't help me, you'll regret it."

"You're threatening me?"

"No. I'm stating a fact."

When Shelly walked away – so tall and dignified in her slim black dress and high heels – Dee kept looking at her for a moment. Until she heard Sam clear his throat.

"What?"

"Maybe she's . . . Right? You know? Maybe that writing contains some instructions on, I dunno, how to operate this ship? Tyrol tried to translate it too, maybe he left some notes?"

"That's right," Dee replied coldly. "I was going to take a look at Tyrol's stuff."

But she wasn't going to look for any translations. She didn't know what she was going to look for. Probably the cylon was right; they weren't going to survive. The Temple had given them shelter, helped them escape, but what now?

Dee catalogued their resources; they had unprocessed algae stock for five days, with Tyrol's field-stove as the only means to process it . They had processed algae left by the crew as well, but that wouldn't last longer than a day. Water supplies would run out in three days, maybe five if they were careful; algae contained lots of water, so that gave them a head start – if they could say that under the circumstances. Three blankets, three lamps, four shots of morpha – bless Tyrol for leaving a med-kit behind – ten shots of lighter pain-meds, and other medications, that Dee assumed wouldn't be necessary. Or so she hoped. They also had guns and plenty of ammo . . .

She wasn't pessimistic, or at least she tried not to be. But she was in a position she wasn't trained for – as the one responsible for the safety of everyone else. Yes, she had been given the Lieutenant pins, and had undergone training onboard Pegasus. She was still a junior officer, though, she was still very young and inexperienced.

She looked back at Lee, willing him to get well suddenly. Met Sam's anguished eyes.

Lieutenant Dualla knew, that she was the only one who could take care of her companions.

Not knowing what else to do, she returned to them with blankets. The ground wasn't cold, it still bore the heat of exploding nova, but it couldn't be comfortable lying on the hard floor. She wrapped Starbuck in one of the blankets.

"I need to give the other two to Lee." She looked at Sam apologetically. "He should be in half-sitting position, it would ease his breathing."

"Hey, I had pneumonia. I know what you're talking about."

Lee woke up when Sam lifted him, so Dee could fix his makeshift bed.

"Get-the cylon-" he choked out.

"It's okay, Lee," Dee whispered.

"Can't-trust her."

"I know."

"Dee, I'm serious." He looked at her intently, hoping that his eyes said, what his voice failed to say. That he wanted them to prevent the enemy from harming anyone. That he thought it would be the best if Shelly was tied up, knocked out, or even killed.

But Dee didn't get it. "Lay down, Lee. I'll take care of everything."

She understood how he felt. Out of place, just like her. Feeling the need to control the situation, but not even aware of most of the things that happened.

"Just rest, Lee," she whispered, stroking his damp forehead, but he was already asleep. "Just rest."

She inhaled and exhaled deeply. The cylon. The damn cylon seemed to at least have a vague idea about what to do. And had saved their lives so far. Dee decided she had not choice, but to follow Shelly's suggestions.

But first there was one more thing she needed to do, and it kept reminding about itself with a stinging pressure in the bottom of her bowels, for quite some time now. "We have to-" She looked around, disgusted and angry with her human physiology. "Frak!" she cursed.

Sam looked up, with an odd look in his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't be of assistance," he said and Dee wasn't sure if he was joking, or was completely somber.

"I'll figure out something!" She got up abruptly. "And then I'll get to those mysterious writings of hers." She strode to the other – dark – side of the hall, grabbing one of the empty containers on her way.

\---

 **Chapter Six.**

\---

Shelly instructed Dee to count all the symbols. How many of them there were, and how many times each was repeated.

"What for?" asked Sam, when Dualla told him what she and the cylon were doing.

"She says this way we'll decode the writing."

"How?"

"I don't know-"

"Just doing what you're told? Without questioning?"

Dee's eyes flickered with anger, and dimmed. That was the military training, that was what she fell into. But she was taking instructions from the enemy and it took the ex-pyramid player to open her eyes! He was also the leader of Caprica and New Caprica Resistance, if that could work as her excuse. He had command experience.

"I'll get her here," she whispered getting up.

Shelly complied with the Lieutenant's order to join the humans, even though she considered it a waste of time.

"If we know how many symbols there are," she explained making an effort to remain patient, "and how many times each of them is repeated, we'll be able to tell whether they are letters, syllables, or whole words. I suspect they are letters, and if I'm right, knowing their number will allow us to tell which are vowels, and which are consonants."

"And this helps us how?" Sam inquired.

Shelly sighed with annoyance. "If we know that, we'll be one step closer to deciphering the writing."

"How, Shelly?" They looked at each other, and the cylon knew she had to give them something. They weren't really threatening her, she could show them who had full colors in this game and ignore their request, but there was no point.

"It is said, that in the original written language of the Scriptures, there are no vowels. This," she pointed at the column, "may be written in this language."

"So how did they speak it?" Sam asked incredulously. He had hard time imagining such a tongue-breaker.

" _Written_ language. There were of course vowels in spoken language. That meant that you might read a word one way or another; it would have different meaning, depending on which vowel you used. That's why whatever translation or transcription you've ever read, may be essentially wrong."

"I've never read Scriptures," Sam admitted. Dee shook her head confirming that it never crossed her mind either, to indulge herself in all that religious mumbo-jumbo.

"Kara is the religious one," Sam whispered, looking at his wife with grief.

The cylon gazed at the unconscious woman with wonder once more. How little she had known! How oblivious she had been!

The God's messenger had been at a hand's reach from the start, and she'd pushed Gaius away from the woman.

Gaius.

How dead was he now? Completely dead? Five had said something about rubbish in her data as she'd downloaded. They'd cleared it away, and stored for further study. Had that been his conscience? She'd been shocked when-after Anders had shot Baltar-she'd woken up in the goo. She'd been even more shocked, when Five had asked her-all concerned and suspicious-if she'd been Caprica. Well, she hadn't been, but she hadn't admitted that. She'd insisted she had to go back ("Back? But you weren't there!") to the planet, she'd stolen the raptor the basestar held in her tenure, and, undetected, returned to the surface. Where she'd fallen straight into Anders' and Adama's hands.

"Do you know-" They heard a faint whisper, followed by a slight cough. " You know this language?"

Major Adama was conscious again, and had listened to their conversation for a while.

Shelly looked at him. She could lie that she knew it, but the truth was the tribe of Gemonese extremists-the last ones who still used this language, and who claimed to be the legatees of Pythia herself-were such a secluded society, that it was impossible for the cylon to infiltrate them. She weighed the odds. Tell him the truth, and expose her deficiency, or not tell it, and have it revealed sooner or later. He did not trust her, so maybe she could gain more by being honest.

"I know the Scriptures. I know some ancient languages. I can fit the pieces."

"Tyrol tried to-" he reminded, but she shook her head; Dee had already given her some scattered notes left by the Chief.

"Tyrol started from the rear end," she sighed with exasperation. "Although he had some knowledge." He was Gemonese after all, that's why the cylon were interested in him. She shook the thought off. "We may use some of it later. Now I'd recommend we started working." She gazed sharply at Dualla.

"I'll be with you in a moment." Dee wanted to speak with her husband first. Her husband and senior officer-whom did she need to talk to more? She leaned to him, "How are you feeling?"

Lee didn't bother answering; gave her a meaningful look instead.

"You need anything?"

"To pee."

At least she thought about that.

Nearly forty eight hours after their crash – Garner's watch that Lee was wearing, survived intact, whatever good or bad purpose that served – they weren't a step closer to solving the mystery.

Walking slowly from the "head" that Dee made on the other side of the hall, with the silent cylon half a step behind him, Lee took the time to consider his companions. Sam still sat by Kara's side, engrossed in sheets of paper, casting a glance at his wife every now and then, more and more frustrated and angry.

Dee was copying fragments of the writings, and left them with both immobilized men to stare at, and count the symbols. Fruitless job. Now she stood near one of the pillars, her hands hanging limply, head cocked to the side. Her hair was tangled and gray from the dirt. All five of them were filthy.

Six – she insisted on them calling her Six, not Shelly – walked by Lee's side, supporting him, when his step staggered. The first time it had been his wife helping him walk, but she'd failed to support his weight when he'd fainted, and the next time she'd asked the cylon to do the job. Shelly was strong, but also rough, and had caused him a lot of pain that first time, despite the medication he'd been given.

She had changed her manners though.

"Ready?" she asked softly, when they approached his rack. Getting up and lying down were the hardest parts of the trip.

He took a breath – as deep as bandages and broken ribs allowed. Something rattled there in his chest, and he coughed painfully. Six's palms were on his arms, steadying him. The spasm passed quickly.

"Ready," he whispered.

She placed her hand under his left arm, much gentler on the right side, and supported his weight as they descended together. He leaned on the cylon's arm with total trust. Shook his head at the thought, and Shelly stopped and looked at him warily. "It's 'kay," he responded to her concern.

Breathed with relief when his back finally touched the folded blanket, and Six carefully covered him with the other one, not upsetting the painful site on his right.

Then she turned to look at the floor, where they made a board to count all the symbols.

"Twenty two," she sighed. "Looks to be the final number, just like I thought."

Sam snorted and threw a paper at her. "Twenty nine, if you count all the variations as different symbol."

"Those dots and strokes are too little differences to count them as meaningful."

"What it means?" Lee dared a short question, breath in, breath out. "Twenty two?"

"It means no vowels," Six reminded.

"Unless those dots and strokes are, say, vowels," Sum cut in stubbornly.

The cylon shot him a furious glance; his endless contradictions were irritating.

"C'mon Shelly!" he bawled, knowing she intended to ignore him. "You're fitting the pieces so they would suit your idea. Open your robotic mind a little! If you can."

Shelly turned to him. Her blue eyes shone like the nova burning the sky. She took a step toward him. Another step. The sound of her high heels hitting the stony floor reverberated in the spacious hall. Another step. She crouched beside him and cocked her head to the side. A devious smile spread on her lips, and Sam held his breath, when her face was only inches from his.

"You can't even imagine how my brain works," she whispered. She observed the emotions swirling in his pupils – was it fear? anger? frustration? – for a few more seconds, and then got up and walked away without another word.

Lee gazed at his colleague, not saying anything either. Sam noticed his look and blew up.

"Do you trust her?"

"No." Lee was too tired to explain that his gaze meant support, not opposition.

"Then don't look at me like that!"

"I'm not." He breathed heavily. "I'm with you."

As much as he could be. And not even due to his own weakness, but because of Sam's increasing anger. Lee was too tired to be angry, while Sam felt fit, apart from pain and feeling of uselessness.

The taller man dragged himself up, leaning on a crutch he constructed from a lamp-stand. At least he could get up on his own; he could walk on his own to serve his body's intimate needs. Lee shut his eyes firmly to stop tears from running. Listened to Sam's limping and cursing. They had just run out of pain meds, and the last shots were wearing off. Dee stored two shots of morpha, said they might need it yet. Shelly could take her time to solve the mystery, she was a cylon. But the humans didn't have the luxury of too much time on their hands.

Lee sobbed lightly, when Sam was far enough away. This wasn't wise though, given the state of his lungs. A painful fit of coughing rattled through his chest, tearing the healing bones apart, burning deep inside. He coughed and coughed and thought that this time he would never stop. Where was Dee, why didn't she hear it?

When the spasm finally passed, and he felt about to pass out, he heard a soft moan next to him. Turned his head abruptly and held his breath, when he felt another coughing fit rising. Looked at the limp hand rising slowly to the forehead of the woman lying next to him.

"Kara?" he croaked, trying not to breathe.

"Frak, Apollo," her voice sounded dry like sandpaper. "What was I drinking last night? I have a hangover of the century."

\---

 **Chapter Seven**  
\---

"Frak, Apollo, what was I drinking last night?"

Lee willed himself to stay conscious. Kara was awake. And not only that, she said his name!

"What's with my hands?" she gazed at her palms, covered with greasy salve; Dee decided that since the pilot wasn't moving, her burns would heal better if not bandaged. Now that changed of course. Luckily the damage wasn't as bad as they first suspected.

"Don't touch-" Lee warned, but another coughing fit stopped him.

"Hey," he heard a voice right next to his ear. Saw her face hovering above him, though his vision was clouded by pain. "Lords, my head . . . " she mumbled. "Do you have any idea, why?-No, don't talk! I'll figure it out. Where the frak are we?" Kara finally looked around.

Lee concentrated on evening out his breathing. Short gasps – in and out, in and out. He was getting better, he knew he was. Earlier this morning – or what they decided to call morning – he'd been awake for nearly four hours straight, the longest since the crash. He'd been taking active part in Shelly's research, arguing with Sam, begging Dee to stop making funny comments, because he couldn't laugh. He was getting better, this cough was simply a result of the walk to the far side of the hall, nothing more.

"Is that?-" Kara asked, and then called louder, "Hey! . . . Frak, my head." Turned back to Lee, before anyone reacted. "That's Sam, right? Don't answer." She squinted and puffed out a mouthful of air as if it could relieve some of the pain.

"Kara!" Sam noticed her. He sped up, wanted to run to her right away, but his scream alarmed Dee and the cylon, and of course the petite woman was first at Kara's side, Sam's limping stride far to slow to reach them sooner.

"You're awake!" the brunette screamed, overjoyed. She lost hope that anything good would happen yet. Kneeled next to Kara, held her head in her hands and looked deep in the other woman's eyes. "Look at my finger." Moved her finger from left to right and back and Kara's gaze followed, but then the pilot snapped up.

"You know what you're doing?"

"Not really. But Cottle did that when I hit my head, so I thought it fit. How are you feeling?"

"I hit my head?"

"What do you remember?"

Too many questions all at once.

"I remember . . . " Kara hesitated. Looked at all the unfamiliar faces, at three pairs of strange eyes staring at her intently. She knew she'd met them already, she knew their names. And she knew one more thing. "I remember apple . . . Apollo."

"Right," Sam snorted.

Dee only set her jaw and looked away.

Their behavior meant something, but what?

"Apollo, the God?" Shelly asked, to the surprise of everybody.

"Yes," Kara responded. "Who else?"

"Why?"

Kara shook her head feebly. "Listen, I'm a little confused, I have a headache. Could we leave this interrogation for later?"

"Sure," Dee answered softly, patting her arm. Then she stood up, facing the tall cylon. She really had to perk her head, and didn't appear intimidating at all, but certainly tried to sound so. "Why are you asking?"

Six's eyes flared.

Sam ignored them and crawled closer to his wife. She was pale, seemed about to pass out again.

"C'mon. Lie back down." He made an attempt to support her, and failed miserably. "Why did you get up anyway?"

"Because he-" Kara gestured to Lee. His blue eyes were misty, but he kept observing them all. She remembered something about husbands and wives, but was too tired to mull over it now.

"I don't know why!" Shelly's scream caught their attention. The blonde towered above Dualla and the smaller woman seemed to have shrunk even more.

Six shot a glance at the other three, and her terrifying posture evaporated.

"Starbuck is the key," she seethed. "The key to the Temple, to our safety, our future. Possibly to the future of both the cylon and mankind. I don't know how, I don't know why. So don't ask me!"

They fell silent.

Sam stared at the cylon for a long while. After seeing so many copies of her back on old Caprica he'd stopped considering her kind beautiful; though at first he'd thought she was the Aphrodite personified. It hit him more and more these days – this woman bore the vibe of the Goddess.

When Six turned away, and the spell broke, his gaze was caught by the green eyes of Dualla. The last two days, when they'd been practically communicating with each other and hardly anybody else, had seen the creation of a strange bond. There were moments when he thought he could read the girl's thoughts and now he saw how frightened she was.

Then her gaze slipped from him down to the woman at his side.

He turned there, too.

Kara's eyes shot to Six, to Dee, to Sam and back to Six.

"Me?" she squeaked. "The key?"

"Okay!" Dee composed herself at the sight of this and took charge again. "So she's the key. Fine. But right now she's going to get some sleep, or else we'll have no key at all. You and I are going back to staring at that ancient writing on the wall, and Sam is going to look after Kara. Starbuck, do you need morpha? No? Then get back to business everyone."

She marched toward the column purposefully, and Six followed her with an amused shrug. Sam leaned over confounded Kara, and helped her wrap herself in the blanket. She wanted to ask what was going on, but felt so tired, she fell asleep before she even knew it.

And Lee thought how completely useless he'd become, if even his wife didn't spare a look at him or a word to instruct him what to do.

Kara woke up several hours later. She was feeling much stronger, and she had a dream.

"Holy frak!" she jumped up, ignoring Sam's concerned "What?" Felt dizzy, staggered, but regained her balance. Sam's helping hand was of considerable importance there. But then she forgot all about him and nearly run to where Dee and Shelly were arguing about something fiercely.

Sam cursed under his breath. He observed the twosome for a while, curious what made them so outraged. He even wanted to go there, but once he tried to stand up, his leg hurt so much, walking anywhere was out of the question. So far he was pissed off with the fact that he couldn't move – thought even if he could, there wasn't anywhere to go in the cramped space of the Temple's hall. But now the pain piled up on his earlier frustration. The shots were no longer an option. And if within the next day or two they didn't figure out that power, pitch, yaw, and roll . . . They were frakked way beyond simple hurting.

And even though Sam was not into the ship's mechanics – Dee seemed to be the one to have some ideas, along with the Major while he was alert enough to share his thoughts – sitting on his ass was simply against the man's nature.

He envied Kara now more than he was concerned for her. Damn, just a few hours ago, she was out cold, and now she stood in front of the other two women, gesticulating wildly. Sam would give just about anything to hear what she was saying.

Not that he would make much sense of it.

"Slow down, Kara." Dee lay her hand on the taller woman's arm, steadying her. "What egg? What apple?"

"The egg. The seed of the fruit of life," Kara tried again. "The symbol-It's Apollo!"

"What symbol? What does Apollo have to do with it?"

"Wait a minute!" Six interrupted. "You mean that round symbol?" Concentrated on deciphering the writing, they all forgot about the most evident figure in the room. "It's the symbol of Apollo?"

"But it's the Eye of Jupiter!" Dee objected. "Not Apollo's."

"Jupiter is another name of Zeus, the father of Apollo, this might be connected," Six picked up Starbuck's train of thought. Approached the symbol and stared at it. "It's so obvious! This is the sun, sun rays, see? The sun is Apollo! Apollo is the god of sun."

"Yeah, what does it change?" asked Dee.

They both looked at Kara expectantly.

"I have no idea," she whispered.

Dee sighed impatiently, but Kara kept staring at the circles in circles in circles. They meant something. The egg, the seed . . . She had a dream about Apollo, the protector of life.

Six put her finger on the sun rays, and looked at Kara. "We're here," she whispered.

"And we need to get here," Kara replied in a whisper too, and put her finger in the center of the symbol, on it's golden heart.

At the pressure the smallest circle plunged into the stone. The whole Temple trembled, a rumbling noise was heard from beneath the ground. The darkness was briefly lit by a flash of energy from the crystals atop the column, and the four taller pillars surrounding the column sunk into the ground with a loud scrape, brought into line with the smallest one.

Dee and Six looked around with shock.

Kara looked around too, when another disconcerting noise was heard.

Both Dee and Six turned to her with alarm.

"What was that?"

"I think I'm hungry," Kara replied slowly, with embarrassment.

\---

 **Chapter Eight**

\---

Luckily Sam was already preparing a "dinner". Dee explained the set-up of their little camp to Kara, and left the pilot with her husband, returning to the cylon. For a moment she fought the urge to sit by Lee's side, hold his hand, and stay there, watching him sleep. Listening to his breath, like Shelly had said earlier.

But they were running out of time, and they may have gotten onto something that might help them find the way out of this hideous situation, so she had to do her job first.

"Here." The cylon pointed to a group of three symbols, as Dee neared her. "Abol."

"Abol?"

"Could be. The ancient version of "an apple". Or . . . If we take this cut at the end as something else than a result of the passing time, like Sam suggested . . . Might be Abolo. Or Apolo."

"You think Kara's dream means something?"

Six shrugged. She didn't have to reveal all her thoughts, especially if they were nothing more than vague ideas. The secret of Kara Thrace was beneath the surface, but she couldn't yet grasp it. While the secret of Apollo was far away enough to let the humans dwell on it for a while.

"It's usually assumed that Apollo's name is derived from the core apollynai – destroyer, destruction. But maybe those who were deciphering the Scriptures were wrong." She walked around the column, searching for another similar symbols. Started marking them out. Dee was about to join her, when Sam called them off for dinner. The cylon didn't even react, stayed with her writings. She didn't need food.

Nearing the twosome, Dee heard them argue in subdued tones. Finally Kara let out an exasperated, "Okay, I believe." Sam's gaze dropped to the pot and boiling green mass, his jaw tight. He was so irritable lately, Dee had to remember to watch her tongue all the time; obviously Kara was learning it the hard way, too.

"It's disgusting," she commented, having tried the algae dinner.

"But satiating," Dee responded, sitting between the two of them. "And it's all we've got." If she was to serve as a buffer, so be it. It was hardly the worse thing that could happen to her.

"I know," Kara fumed. "Sam briefed me in," she added in a meaningful tone, looking at Dee with hostility.

The younger woman sighed, starting to eat her share of algae. But Kara was far from finished.

"It would be much easier for him if you bothered to tell him that I lost my memory!"

"Like it bite you the most!" Sam interrupted angrily.

"I'm only speaking in your defense!"

"Maybe I don't need an attorney!"

"Gods, why am I even trying to be friendly?" Kara threw her hands, and put her cup aside, getting up.

"This is 'friendly' by your standards?" Sam yelled louder.

"If we're married, I guess you should know!" she spat, turned around and walked away, not letting him respond.

"Frak!" Sam threw the spoon he used to stir the goo across the hall. It clattered loudly on the stony floor.

Dee sighed. So much for the buffer. She got up and went for the spoon. Returned and met Sam's hateful stare; he hated his disability and hated being reminded of it. But suddenly his face softened, eyes darted toward Lee, lying a few steps to the side fast asleep. Even from the distance they could hear his unsteady breathing.

"She asked me about him," Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "I said-I don't even remember, something about a husband, and she asked about him."

Dee gasped, and Sam looked up at her.

"Yeah. You see now why I was mad?" He sighed deeply, looking over at the unconscious man again. "He's bad. I don't know if he's going to make it."

That was enough for Dualla. All jealousy forgotten, she found herself at her husband's side in a blink of an eye. He did look terribly, was white as a sheet, his lips were chapped and had unsettling bluish tint. Dark circles around his eyes made her heart ache. Dee brushed his face, and as her fingers touched him, she felt something was wrong. She pressed her palm to his temple, his forehead.

"Oh my gods," she breathed out. "He's burning!"

She looked over at Sam, but the man seemed as shocked as she was.

"I was talking to him a moment ago. He wasn't fine, but there was no sign of fever." He struggled to crawl nearer, clearly disturbed.

Dee got up hastily and jumped to the med-kit. Started throwing things out left and right.

"We've had antibiotics here somewhere," she murmured.

"I'm not sure it's wise, Dee. If there isn't enough, or they are not strong enough, it might do more damage than good. We don't really know why he's like this."

Lieutenant Dualla felt her strength draining away. The thought about saving the man she loved was what kept her going. If she lost that purpose, she wasn't sure she'd find another reason to put on a brave face.

Kara was angrier that she first assumed. Apparently she didn't even know herself all that good. Which could be understandable, given that she knew nothing about herself. At least now some things were explained, but she had a feeling her husband, Sam Anders, didn't know her too well either. How did she figure out that this other man, Lee Adama, was her husband, she had no idea, but it surely pissed off Sam.

If she wasn't so lost, she would laugh at all this.

Not even knowing how and why, Kara found herself in front of the column once more, right before the circular sign. The tall blonde-the cylon, the enemy, Sam had said-came from around the obelisk.

"You want to touch it?" she asked, nodding at the mandala.

"Not really." Kara stepped away. Looked behind herself, at one of the pillars, the one that had been the lowest, before the rest of them plunged into the ground. Right behind that pillar there was a path, and an ellipse with another symbol of the mandala.

Kara took a few steps in that direction, but stopped beside the pillar. Six joined her, and together they were staring at the figure.

"I wanted to ask you-" the cylon hesitated for a bit. "What Colony are you from?"

"All and none," Kara chuckled. "I was born on Libria if that's what you mean."

"Libron."

"Yeah, Libron."

"What about Geminon? Were you ever there?"

"No. Gemenon is the only Colony my mother was never sent to. That and Libron actually. I was born there, but we left when I was very small and never returned. Those were the only two Colonies I've never seen, others-" now Kara hesitated, furrowed her brow, scratched her head.

"I thought you lost your memory?" the cylon asked ironically.

"Yeah. I can't remember other worlds. In fact the more I think about it-" There was something wrong. With her head, and with the world. It was spinning again.

Kara reached out for support and touched the slanted surface of the pentagonal pillar. As her palm met the stone, she felt slight electrical shock, and the floor of the Temple shuddered lightly. She looked around, frightened, withdrew her hand, and when she gazed at the pillar again, she realized it was rising from the floor. Other pillars remained still, but this one came up, revealing an empty space inside it's pentagonal area.

Kara looked in there, then at Six, then inside again; her dizziness gone and forgotten. The pillar halted, the floor of the void was level with one of the Temple. Like it was waiting. Kara took a step inside, but felt the other woman's palm on her arm.

"Are you sure?"

"Well-I don't see why not?"

Neither Dee, nor Sam noticed the trembling this time. The girl simply broke into tears, and even if Sam felt any shudder, he assumed it was the body pressed against his chest. He kept stroking her tangled hair, hushing and shushing, and shooting glances at the woman's husband. When he'd said Lee might not make it, he thought more about the man's mental state; it seemed that the soldier lost the will to fight. But now, with the fever, and rabid cough, the threat was more of the physical nature.

Finally Dee started calming down, and pushed away from Sam's embrace.

"What are we going to do?" she asked shakily.

Before Sam found words, they heard Kara's excited voice. "You're not going to believe it!"

They looked up to see her smiling triumphantly, and Six right behind her, rather amused.

"You're not going to believe what we've found!"

\---

 **Chapter Nine**

\---

It's been over forty eight hours since the  _Galactica_ left the Algae planet system. Admiral's presence was required during the analysis of the findings from the planet's surface. He had to change all the security codes and protocols that were known to Athena, who re-joined the cylons. He needed to supervise the damage report, even if he could leave it to his XO under certain circumstances. He needed to debrief his crew. Well, he should have known the document that now lay in front of him for that, but somehow managed to skip it. He needed to plan the course of next actions with the President, even if she'd said they might do it later. He needed . . .

Well, there was only one thing he needed to do. Take cognizance of the list of casualties. But he stared at the document on his desk and the letters somehow didn't want to form into words.

The Admiral pushed the paper away, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Maybe he should get some sleep first?

As if on cue someone knocked at the hatch then.

"Enter!"

"Bill?" Tigh's bald head peeked through the opening. "Not sleeping yet?"

The XO walked toward his commander's-and friend's-desk, and stopped right there, scrutinizing Bill.

"I was just going to."

Saul didn't say anything, picked up the casualties list, glanced it over and nodded. "We lost many good men there."

"Not as many as after New Caprica," Bill responded harshly, looking away.

Tigh's one eyebrow jumped all the way to the top of his head. "Do you even know what you're saying?"

"I'm tired. Haven slept in a few days. I think we'll put off sweeping through the crew manifesto until the morning."

The Admiral stood up, his face hardened like the battlestar's shielding. He was dismissing his XO, and he trusted his friend would not poke his head up at this moment.

But Saul Tigh shrugged, sat down, and put the list back on the desk, in front of Bill, with a mockery of a smile on his lips.

"Put off, huh?" he murmured. "That's what you've been doing these past couple of days. Well, if you want it that way . . ." He blew his lips, deep in thought, staring at his hands. "Crew manifesto . . . We need a new CAG, Helo can't be the filler any longer. Along with CAG we lost the lead pilot." Bill sat down, and Saul shot him a glance. The Old Man's arms slumped, his face shrunk. He was dumbly gaping at the document on his desk. The XO took a breath and continued. "The CIC personnel can fill in the gap after Lt. Dualla for a while, but with the pilots-we must assign them now. The obvious choice is Narcho, he's the squad leader-"

"Stop it."

Tigh fell silent. Watched his commander and best friend and felt his pain.

"I wish-" Bill's whisper was barely audible. Saul didn't move. Waited. "I wish I could resign."

"But you can't."

None of them moved, none said anything for another eternally long moment.

Bill Adama felt he could go on only as long as he didn't acknowledge the full extent of what happened.

"Chose CAG," he grated. Got up and took the two steps to his rack. Sat down. "Good night," said without looking at his visitor.

And Saul, sterling Saul, took his cue, sighed, and left.

Bill Adama had once presented President Roslin with a document like the one he was staring at right now. Except that he had trouble filling the last line now. I recommend . . . Whom? . . . As the Commander of the Fleet. Whom?

He stared at the paper and his thoughts were blank.

He heard a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said.

Didn't look up, but the sound of her steps was recognizable enough.

"Bill?" she asked. "You didn't attend the ceremony." There was concern in her voice, worry for him.

He didn't need that.

"It's over already?"

"Yes. Colonel Tigh did the honors." She sat, but he refused to look up at her. She continued in a soft voice. "There was no delay, no stir. He really outdid himself there."

"I'm going to have to thank him," Bill commented dryly.

"How are you holding up?"

He hesitated. She was getting straight to the point, and perhaps that was what he should do too?

"I was going to-" he choke. Somehow it was even harder to say the words, than think them. "But I have a problem," tried another approach, "with the replacement. It's stupid really. I don't know, maybe you'll find it easier, maybe with some advice . . ."

"What are you talking about?" She noticed the document he was staring at, held out her hand and took it. He let her. "What is it?" Her eyes scanned the text. "What is it? You're not serious." She took off her glasses and looked at him, her eyes piercing right through his tormented heart. She saw his pain and her face softened. "Bill. I know how you feel."

"Do you?"

"No," she agreed. "I don't. But-"

"You can't know that. Not until you really experience-" His grief choke him again. "I didn't know," he sobbed. And then, suddenly, the words started flowing from him like a water that breaks the dam. "I thought I did, but I didn't, I had no idea. Remember what you asked me?" He looked up, and saw how she looked back then: frightened, wary. It had only been a few days ago! "'Are you prepared to sacrifice Lee?' you asked." She rememberred. "I thought I was. Gods, I lost him so many times, I thought I knew how I'd feel. But that was that: so many times. I never lost him for real not until now." The tears flooded his face. He'd never cried before, not even back then, when he'd had another reason, just like this, to cry. "When I thought he was gone, I kept going, but at the end of the day he was always back one way or another. I keep expecting him to be back now, too. But he's not coming back. He's not coming back," he sobbed. Wiped the tears, but new ones came right away. "I never imagined I would feel like this," added in a whisper. That was true, even back then-after Zak's death, his younger son—it had all been different. The world had been different. "I thought I'd grieve, and keep going, because that's my duty. Because I'm an Admiral. But no. My Lee is gone. And with him my purpose. All my purpose."

"Bill-"

"All my life."

Laura looked at him and waited. Gave him the time to gather his wits about him, was the most understanding.

He counted on it, actually. "That's why you will accept it this time." He pointed at his resignation.

Laura's eyes opened wide.

"And you will do what?" she asked in accusatory tone. "Just give up, rot away on some civilian ship? Do you think that's what he would have wanted?"

"This isn't about him."

"Isn't it? Who is it about then? You?"

He shot her a glare, but that was Laura Roslin and she could take him up on the glare contest on most days of the week.

"It should be about him," she picked up, softly again. "You owe him that much. And for him you should keep fighting." Laura kept pressing, and seeing him stubbornly shake his head, she tried a different tactic. "Imagine him coming back. What if his raptor had jumped away? You don't know that for sure, do you? What if he comes back eventually and sees his father has given up, abandoned his post. Do you really want that?"

Bill stared at her blankly. Totally missed the later part of her elaborate.

"You think they may have jumped away?" he asked hoarsely.

Laura swallowed. She was sure Bill considered this possibility somewhere along the way, but apparently not.

"Then we hurried with this funeral ceremony!" he rose suddenly. "Maybe he-"

"Bill. If he's alive, he'll have to find  _us_ -"

"We have to go back! I promised him-" his voice faltered, tears threatened to flow again. "-I'd never leave."

"He knows where we are going," she assured, surprising even herself with that hope that it was-by some miracle-true. "If he's alive, he'd have to find us, we can't search for him. Meanwhile just do your job, and stop whining, okay."

She was fully aware how thin her argumentation was, but Bill so desperately needed a purpose, he clung to this belief that Lee was still alive, like it was his lifeboat. And the President started worrying how long the Fleet would survive, if it was led by a man, who lived in an imaginary world.

\---

 **Chapter Ten**

\---

"You're not going to believe what we've found!" Kara and Six tried to out-shout each other

Dualla looked up frantically. It'd better be good! I'd better be something that would save Lee.

"Come," Kara smiled and extended her hand, helping Dee stand up, Six offered her assistance to Sam, but he refused.

"I'll wait. He shouldn't be left alone." Pointed at the Major.

Kara's quick stolen glance did not escape unnoticed. And Sam was sure he'd seen concern there. Was she lying about the extent of her amnesia? Did she somehow remember  _him_ , and their affair? Sam wished he could still hate the Major, but somehow his compassion prevailed over resentment.

He watched the three women walk away and cursed his bad luck. He was damn curious what made Kara and Six so elated, and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor, when he saw one of the pillars rise from the ground, the girls enter it, and the pillar sink back.

"What are you doing?" Dee shrieked. She wanted to escape, she had the worst suspicions, when the two blondes forced her inside the pillar, into a tight pentagonal area in which the three of them could barely fit. Kara and Six were both smiling, almost laughing, and Dee was sure there were predatory sparks in their eyes.

Before she managed to scream however, some kind of door started rising, cutting her off the spacious hall, Sam and Lee. He breath caught from panic. Then, as soon as the two missing walls of the pentagonal cage were the full height, there appeared a slit right above the floor, that grew rapidly, and Dee realized finally it was them, inside the small box, that were lowering. Soon the lift stopped, and Kara stepped out.

"Voila!" she extended her arms, showing the corridor they now found themselves in. Dee looked around in awe. Everything was lit by dim yellowish lamps located in the ceiling. The wide walkway, of a low ceiling, encompassed a central wall, that must have been supporting the tall column in the center of the room above. There were writings, similar as above, all around the middle of the rotunda. And when Dee stepped out from the lift, and looked behind it, she saw a tight corridor, that led further into the accommodation.

"Let me show you around!" Kara exclaimed.

"And I'll help those two get down here," Six added, pointing at the ceiling.

Dee sighed, shook her head skeptically, and followed ecstatic Kara.

"I can't believe you haven't found it earlier!" Starbuck sneered. "You were sitting on a starship and never thought there had to be some control center."

"We did think that," Dee replied, offended. The pilot's arrogance was starting to irk her. "We just couldn't find it!"

"You're lucky to have me here," Kara smirked, but before Dee found a reply, the pilot stopped abruptly in an entrance to a wider area. The younger officer was focused on her colleague, so the first thing she noticed was how transfixed, and haunted Kara's eyes became. Only then she took the time to look around.

When Six came back up, Sam was already limping toward the lift. He hesitated when the cylon gestured for him to enter, shot a glance at the Major's still form, but she promised to be right back for the ill man, and the fighter could not resist his curiosity any more.

"I won't tell you," Six deflected his demands of explanation. "You wouldn't believe anyway. You have to see it."

Indeed, Sam would not believe if he didn't see it.

When they got off the lift, he looked around equally dumbfounded as Dualla had been before him. "Is that?-" He looked at the tall blonde next to him; she was smiling genuinely.

"The control center." Six nodded, guessing his thoughts. She pointed at the corridor behind the lift. "It's there exactly, but right now I'd rather take you to the lower level."

Sam put up a hand to stop her. "What's on the lower level. I  _will_  believe you!"

The cylon grinned. "Something we might consider bunk rooms. With kitchen, bathroom, beds."

"You want to put me to bed?"

"No. But I think you shouldn't strain-"

"Let me decide about what I should and what I shouldn't," Sam smirked. He could do a happy dance now! "I want to see the command center."

Six shook her head at this, but consented and led him down the small corridor.

The area was elliptic. Or ellipsoidal even; the floor and ceiling weren't flat either. There was no corner in the room, even the flickering screens, filling the wall opposite from the entrance; few buttons on the flat, slanted surface below the monitors; the surface itself, were round, oval, elliptic. The only straight lines and figures-pentagons mostly-were displayed on the screens and were constantly changing, moving, evolving. It made Dualla dizzy.

Kara stood next to her, staring at the monitors, breathing fast. Dee could say her colleague was excited, and frankly, she was pretty elated too, though she was not believing her own eyes yet. She stepped closer, and tried to comprehend the symbols on the screens. These must have been all kinds of control panels. There must have been some communication system, too. This was something she was familiar with, if she only could-

"What do you think this all means?" Dee turned to Kara, and gasped.

The other woman's face was deathly white and it was hard to tell if it was from the weird light that illuminated the room, or from emotions. Her lips were trembling, moving slightly as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't make out words.

"Starbuck?"

"I-uh-this-here-" she tried to choke out. Shook her head, and simply crossed the distance between herself and the flat surface in two long, determined strides. "I know what it is." She touched the surface and wild swirls of colors danced upon it. "I can't name it, but I know." Moved her fingers, and swirling colors changed pattern. The evolving lines, triangles and pentagons on screens also started moving. It was all in chaos, but Dee felt instinctively that there was method in this madness.

They heard voices, and Kara quickly withdrew her palms, looked behind. Sam limped in, leaning on his hand-made crutches, the cylon hovering behind him.

"Whoa!" he gasped.

Six looked at Dee and Kara, and for a moment regret flashed in her eyes. She blinked and stubborn superiority returned. "I'll be back as soon as I get the Major down." Turned and strode away.

"Down?" Dee asked, suddenly frightened, worried for her husband.

"Living area," Kara explained without much ado and returned to the monitors.

"What are you doing?" Sam gasped, seeing the dance of colors and lines.

"What do you think? I'm piloting this thing. I'm a pilot, am I not?"

"How?"

"Wish I knew-"

Sam and Dee stood on either side of a focused Starbuck and shared worried glances.

"Do you at least know where you are going?" tried Sam.

"No idea."

"So maybe you know where the communication device is?" tried Dee, as this question kept nagging her. "There must be some, right?"

"Over there." Kara pointed to the few switches next to Dualla's left arm.

"Seriously?"

"I'm not sure you'll be able to use them though. But you might try."

Dee tried. Damn, she would use it! Even if Starbuck thought she would not be able to, she would use this thing somehow!

The monitor in front of her started displaying data she could not understand. But she could, she probably could contact the Galactica. If she only knew how! If Kara could instinctively pilot this ship, then why wouldn't the comms officer be able to understand how it communicated?

"Kara," she suddenly heard Sam's deeply concerned voice. "What is this thing?"

Near the border of one of the monitors appeared an arc, described with tiny symbols, similar to those on Dee's screen, and-she realized now-the same as writings on the column above. The arc soon changed into a half-circle, and then into the full circle that flashed and started pulsating, the many writings all around it changing constantly, disappearing and moving.

"Maybe we should stop?" inquired Sam, but Kara only shook her head.

\---

 **Chapter Eleven**

\---

Six felt uneasy. Leaving the humans in the control center was careless at best. What if they found the way to operate the ship? It was unlikely, they didn't have her cylon intelectual abilities, but they had Starbuck. And Starbuck was the great unknown. Six still wasn't sure about the pilot's role, but she was starting to get a clue. Kara Thrace had never been on Gemenon. She'd been born on Libron, but had never returned there. There was some mystery surrounding Kara Thrace, her father and her mother. And the cylon was one step away from solving it.

It would be wiser to stay with Thrace, observe her. Yet Six was standing inside the alien lift, going up to the ill Major. If she abandoned him, neglected her promise, he might die. If he died, there was no way of telling what would happen. There were the five of them, and this was the Temple of Five. Whatever the connection was, Six saw the hand of God in it. And she wouldn't dare oppose Him, even for a reason to watch the Chosen One's every step.

Because it was becoming more and more obvious to Six that Kara Thrace was the Chosen One.

The lift stopped and the cylon walked out. Her high heels hitting the floor, she neared the still form on the floor, looked at the man's pale face, chest moving up and down in each strained breath.

"Major Adama," she called, kneeling down and reaching for his arm. "Apollo."

What was his connection to Apollo, the god?

At first he wouldn't wake up. Six shook him several times and when he did not respond, feeling her throat constrict, she checked for his pulse. Ridiculous! He was breathing so loud she didn't need to worry that he'd died already! Loud an irregularely. Then his eyes cracked open, eyelids fluttered, and immediatelly shut tight as he struggled to stiffle the cough that threatened him.

The cylon squeezed his arm lightly, and whispered, "You'll get better soon." There was no way of knowing if that promise would come true, but she sounded convincing. Hope flickered in the ill man's eyes, and Six experienced compassion. Sincere compassion, she realized. She really cared. "You have to rise now," she whispered softly. "I'll help you get below, there's real ship there, command with all that pitch, trigger and stuff. And computers. And sleeping quarters. Food and water. Maybe medications," she kept talking softly, but stopped when realized Lee was drifting away again. "Wake up." She shook him, and he focused on her. "We have to move."

He was warm, hot even. When she moved him, helping him up, his breathing grew even more irregular, and before he managed to sit up, he started coughing. She held him fast, and kept stroking his back, until the fit subsided.

"I'll carry you," she offered, but he started then, shook his head stiffly. They were ambitious those human men.

Slowly they managed to stand, though he swayed. Then step-by step they walked to the center of the room. Looking at the column and the pillars Six rememberred she'd wanted to do it fast. Quickly return to Kara Thrace. Was there any way to do it faster?

"Where-?" One word spoken in a harsh voice recalled her.

She guessed what he wanted to know. "Below," she replied with a sigh. "Those pillars are some kind of lifts." She paused, seeing his frown. "Everyone else is down there already. You'll rest there."

He stopped before the pillar. Just like the others, wasn't willing to enter the cramped space – the cylon assumed. The alien technology seemed surreal, Six suddenly felt weirded out too, and she guessed that through feverish haze it all must look much more scary.

But shooting Lee a glance she learned he wasn't looking at the inside of the lift. His head bowed, he was struggling to draw in a breath. When he finally managed, it was followed by another couging fit, that wrecked his whole body. Six couldn't even hold him up, fell to her knees, all the time protecting the falling body from hitting the ground.

When he started breathing again, each tortured gasp sending deep rumbles through his chest, he wasn't conscious any more. She gently lifted him, and his head rolled and rested limply on her shoulder. Carrying him she entered the lift and it moved down immediatelly. On the lower level she walked to one of the other four pilars, and it transported them one more level down.

It looked similarly to the one above, with a central rotunda encompassed by writings and punctuated with symbols of mandala. But in the other wall, opposite to the mandalas, next to the pillars standing a few feet aside from the wall, there were openings, each leading into a single living quarter. There were six pillars, six openings, and six spaces, the last one - right below the control room - being the head and the mess.

The cylon entered one of the quarters and gently put Major Adama in his rack. She was ready to go back to the command center, intended to send someone else here to take care of the injured man, when she thought better of it. He required more than simple holding his hand and watching over his breathing. For starters he needed a bath, and suddenly Six remembered how embarassed the Major was each time she helped him to the head, how he struggled, despite of his weakness, to take care of his needs by himself.

She knew without a doubt, he'd feel humiliated if any of the other three people did the job. Dee, because she was the wife he was supposed to protect and care for, not the other way around. Starbuck because . . . Well, because their relationship was complicated. And Anders was that other man, the stronger, healthier one. Apollo wasn't even willing to accept a glass of water from him as far as Six knew. Her however the Major hated enough, not to be bothered by. She could do it. But would she?

The realization was shocking, and her digital brain had toruble comprehending her own motives. She quickly walked to the head, took a bowl of warm water and a rag. Human physiology - it was something she'd never dealt with before. Gaius seemed to have no physiology at all, even his apartament was the paradigm of order and neatness, almost like everything in the cylon world. In the inside of his brain, she deliberatelly cut herself off the biological part of his body. Well, except for one aspect of it, but that was different.

Now she looked at the battered, sick, filthy body, and all she felt was compassion, no disgust.

Slowly and carefully she removed his cloths and bandages from his chest. He moaned a few times, but other than that did not respond; didn't even open his eyes. When he was naked, she covered him with a sheet, to prevent him from getting cold, and started gently washing his face and arms.

Then she uncovered his chest, and looked at the marks left by the crash. The bruises on Apollo's chest turned grayish yellow, there was no swelling any more, though the spot was still tender; the man winced when she touched it. At least there were no cuts, so the threat of infection didn't add to the probable pneumonia.

When he was bathed, Six carefully dressed him in plain white attire she found in the locker. Lee coughed harshly and whimpered a few times as she turned him and moved his limbs. She did all she could, and reluctantly rose and left his side. Lost in thought went back to the head area, to put away the water bowl, when she stopped dead in her tracks, watching the mandala oposite from the room entrance.

Its sun rays were slowly revolving.

She dropped the bowl where she stood, and run to the lift. Once on the upper level, she hurried to join the humans in the control center. What had they done while she was busying herself with Lee Adama's needs?

As she run into the room filled with monitors, and controls, she stopped dead once again. All the monitors were showing the same round object, in various sizes, described with various symbols, some of them showing clearly that was where they were headed.

The three humans heard her steps, and turned to her, all of them pale as paper.

"I think this is some star," Kara blurted out. "We're going toward-" She stopped suddenly, went even more pale, green even, turned away, and heaved on the console.

\---

 **Chapter Twelve**

\---

While Sam tried to comfort Starbuck - which wasn't easy given her stubborn character, and his unsteady stance - Dualla stared at the cylon, who obviously knew something.

"You tell us right now what's going on!" the petite girl demanded. Her eyes blaring she could have been the size of an ant, and everyone in the room would notice and listen to her right now. She no longer had anything to lose, she no longer cared. If this was going to end, if they were to die, she would at least fight to survive for as long as possible. Finding these rooms under the cold floor of the Temple was a proof enough that there were miracles.

"How am I supposed to know what's going on?" Six tried to deflect the ex-coms officer's anger, but met the wall.

"You obviously are hiding things from us! And you're going to share. Right now!"

"I'm not hiding any facts," the cylon seethed. "I'm only guessing-"

"Then guess!" Dualla yelled. "What is that round object?"

"It looks like some star."

"Are we heading toward a star? Are we going to land on it's planet?"

"I really do not know."

"There aren't any signs resembling planets on those screens," Sam noticed inteligently. Kara, appearing to feel better, leaned closer and watched the screens. She shook her head, commenting his statement without words.

"Where did you get us, Starbuck?" Dee whispered. She was never fond of the cocky pilot, but now, her putting everyone on immediate danger . . . This just made her blood boil.

"Hey, knock it off, Dee," Sam stepped in his female's defense. "What did you do so far?"

It was too much. What he said was damn unfair and both he and her knew that, but he did not intend to apologize. And she did not intend to let it intimidate her. Dualla swallowed her fury for now.

"How do we communicate with the Galactica?" she asked the cylon.

"I don't-"

"Don't," Dee warned "even say that. This is the console. There must be the receiver and the sender. And some way to compose the message. Or at least a way to send some sort of Krypter message. Every communication device has a way to send out an automated request for help."

Dee turned sharply to the console. It had to be something easily distinguishable, something that even non-specialist would be able to find, even if he was hurt and unable to think clearily. Like that orange button, between the monitors.

Without further consideration Dualla pressed the button. The ship moaned and nothing more happened.

But that did not matter. What mattered was if something happened on the Galactica. That was the question they had no answer to, not yet.

Laura Roslin waited for the Admiral's reaction to her tirade, but after a minute, when there was no answer, she sighed and turned to the exit, her head bowed. This was going to be more tough than she thought.

Ringing of the wire stopped her a few steps from the hatch. This was not her thing, but she waited, watched as the Admiral picked up the phone. Whether it meant that he was willing to keep his position as a leader of the Fleet, or was it simple automated gesture, she could not guess. But he answered the phone.

"Adama." Listened for a moment his brow furrowing. "I'm on my way," said gruffly, without much emotion in his voice.

Noticed the President standing in his room, noticed her questioning look.

"We received some call. Patterns suggest a distress call, and it has some features of a cylon message, but not quite. We need to decide if we're going to investigate, or get as far away from it as possible. Do you wish to accompany me to the CIC?"

She nodded and followed him out of the hatch, as he buttoned up his uniform.

"This better be important Eleven," number Three yelled entering the Control Room.

She had just spent all morning with Number Eight, also known as Sharon Agathon - as she insisted to be called - who was getting on her nerves. She and that Caprica Six. How were they able to set themselves apart form others of their model? Three was a Three, whether it was her, or some other Three, they thought the same, wanted the same, and they all had the same name. All of the cylon were like that. Even other Eights and Sixes. But not Sharon Agathon and Caprica.

And now Three had to work with them both on those weird data, they had initially stored away as "rubbish", after that mad Six had downloaded, stolen the raptor and gone to the planet to explode along with it. They had initially thought it had been Caprica, but then Caprica had been caught trying to help Eight . . . Sharon . . . escape with the child. They had been punished, both of them. And they should have remained where they would not interfere with the other cylon.

But Five, who had insisted from the start on investigating the rubbish from Six's download, had finally came onto something only a few days ago. He had been certain that garbage had human traits. He'd finally compared them with the data they had on Baltar and said they matched. They matched exactly. He'd said that what they thought was Caprica, was in fact Baltar. And truth be told it fitted. Three rememberred she had died and downloaded only seconds before that mad Six had. She'd been with Baltar on the planet, came across that Caprica-and-New-Caprica-Resistance fighter, and Major Adama, and they had killed her. They had probably killed Baltar as well.

But that became clear later, when Caprica admitted to having a Baltar inside her head. She had claimed to having talked to him since her download after the initial attacks on the Colonies. She had told them everything about it, and Three had never been so furious before. No cylon had ever hidden so many so important information from the collective! She voted for boxing all her model, but that old, clever, atheistic #$ Eleven convinced others that was too harsh a move. And he'd been right, other Sixes weren't as traitious.

And the fact was that Caprica's experience could greatly help them to resolve the mistery of Baltar's mind-traces mixed with the mad Six's. Another Six different from all the others!

So far they managed to find Baltar's DNA, clone him and grow his clone in the Resurrection Ship. His body was almost ready for a download. They were considerring killing and downloading Caprica as well – splitting her and possible Baltar's consciousness in the process. But she started to object and they didn't yet reach the consensus, when Three was recalled to the control center. Eleven, two Fives and Six were already there, next numbers aproaching quickly.

"Well, what is it?" Three demanded, when she saw the last model Four coming in. He was probably with the Hybrid again, listening to her mumbling. Idiot!

"This might be interesting," Eleven said with a mischeivous smile. "We've just received a message from an uncharted yet territory. And the curious thing about it is – it has elements resembling the ancient language of the Scriptures."

"Do you mean we found Earth?" Three gasped.

\---

 **Chapter Thirteen**  
\---

The President gazet at the print-out and had a feeling she should be able to decipher it. Meanwhile Admiral Adama, along with Gaeta and Colonel Tigh analyzed the range, direction and distance.

“We won’t make it in one jump,” Gaeta asserted.

“It could be cylon trap,” the Colonel warned. “They were using this trick before.”

“It was different,” Adama remembered. They had lured the “Pegasus” into a trap and it was Lee, Major Adama, who’d saved the battlestar and her crew back then.

“Sure it’s different, they’d be morons to be using exactly the same tactic twice,” Tigh grumbled, but the Admiral waved him off.

“We’ll check it out. Mister Gaeta, calculate the jump.” The Admiral straightened his back and gazed at the President, standing on the opposite side of the hexagonal table.

As their eyes met, Roslin heard a whisper. She turned sharply to her side -- Tory was standing there, looking at the writing in her hand intently.

“Say again?” Laura urged.

Tory shot a glance upward, timidly. She was not aware she read it aloud. Took a deep breath and repeated the wrods full-voice.

President Roslin held her breath at the sound of them. From the way the Admiral’s brow furrowed she guessed he thought the same thing.

“The language of the Scriptures.” It could have been written in the ordinary letters, but this was the language the priest used during the most important ceremonies.

“I’ll call Amittai, he’ll help me decipher the meaning of this,” Roslin declared. The priest aiding her now was also a linguist.

“This won’t be necessary,” Adama differed. “Those words are repeating, so it’s probably some automated distress call, meaningless most likely. We’ll find out soon.”

\---

“A distress call?” Three inquired. “From whom?”

“That we do not know. And we’re going to find out.” Eleven’s smile was as annoying as they get. For some reason Three had a feeling Eleven didn’t like her, and that it was personal.

And on some level she was right. Eleven didn’t trust Three. Her actions on the Temple Planet seemed to have lead to something vaguely defiant. Some kind of disaster had been prevented, and Eleven wasn’t sure if the cylon -- their whole society -- should be glad or worried about it.

Now they had other things on their plate however, and Eleven focused on instructing the Hybrid to go where they needed.

Four observed him from under his brow; two Eights were discussing something in subdued voices; Five, Six and Seven simply stood appearing bored. Three was pacing the length of the room back and forth. 

“Something wrong, Three?” Eleven teased, not looking up at her. He was in sync with the Hybrid already, instructing her on where to go, and what the message was -- the synchronization was too deep sometimes, and more than one wanted could be revealed to the other cylon.

The Basestar shivered.

The link was severed.

Eleven jumped up, looked around. Five, Six, Seven and two Eights were climbling up, frightened and confused, Four’s eyes nearly jumped out of his scull, and Three leaned over the wall, breathing hard and fast.

And then they heard a laughter.

The Hybrid was laughing.

\---

“What did you do?” Sam asked under his breath, staring at the petite woman.

“She probably called us some assistance,” Kara murmured in Dualla’s defence. “Might come in handy.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Kara gestured to the monitors.

“How did that happen?” Six asked, looking at the human blonde with reproach.

“Well--” Kara gazed up. Then she looked back at the console. “I touched here-- I guess--”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Six sighed.

“Right,” Dee gasped, suddenly remembering where the cylon had gone before. “Where’s Lee?”

“On the lower level.” The blonde didn’t even finish saying that, as Dualla run out of the control room.

Starbuck shot a glance after her, and for a moment it seemed as though she wanted to go there as well. But she did not.

Instead she gazed back at the monitors

“What do you think is going on?” Sam reminded about the crisis at hand. He expected the answer from the cylon, but Six was as ignorant as all of them.

“Starbuck,” she seethed, gazing at the human woman with her most piercing stare, “if you managed to get us here, how about getting us out of here now?” 

Starbuck shrugged, not abated. “I’m not sure if that’s what we should do.”

“Kara--” Sam gasped.

“Not sure?” Six inqured irately. “We are heading toward a star, there’s no planet that we could land on in vicinity,” the volume of her voice insreased with each word, “and you’re not sure if we should get out of here as fast as we can?” At the end she was yelling, her face hovering only inches above the human woman’s blaring eyes.

“Someone said I was the pilot,” Starbuck defied. “You perhaps? So I piloted.”

“Kara,” Sam started again in a strained voice. “No one is accusing you or anything, but-- Aren’t we all going to burn?” There, someone finaly said it out loud.

\---

Dee allowed herself to forget about the impending disaster for a moment as she run to the elevator, descended to the lower level, and run through the round corridor, peering into the rooms.

There, in the third room she looked into, lay a motionless figure of her husband. His skin was ashen and clammy, hair ruffled, the stubble on his scrawny cheeks made him look even more deathlike. But he was clean -- she realized with surprise. And suddenly felt palpably aware of the clothes she hadn’t changed for the last few days, of the itching skin, that hadn’t seen water for the equal amount of time.

She looked back toward the head -- the real head -- she was about ready to go there first, when she hear ruffling of the sheets, and a rapid change in Lee’s breathing. She was at his side in an instant.

He looked up at her, cognizance slowly downing, the blue depths of his pupils darkened from the fever. Then he blinked, and looked around, a shadow of a smile danced on his cracked lips.

“We’re back,” he whispered faintly, sighed and closed his eyes again, still smiling.

Dee felt tears pricking he eyes. She’d be heartless if she told him he was mistaken, so she leaned close and whispered, “Yes,” to his ear. Kissed him, stroke his hair and run out before she’d start sobbing.

\---  
 **Chapter Fourteen**  
\---

“I can’t quite explain this,” Kara started. It was so difficult. She knew everything was going to be alright. She knew she had to do this, had to fly this ship the way she did. It had almost been as if the ship had been telling her what to do-- 

“Maybe you should do some explaining, Six,” Sam suggested. “Maybe that would give us a clue about what to do. Even her!” gestured toward his wife. Kara was obviously even more confused than the rest of them. She was doing some things she did not even understand, she was out cold for a few days, weakened. All Sam wanted to do was to protect her, and if he couldn’t protect her from the burning star, he’d at least deflect accusations of that cylon! “Why is she acting like this? You know something!” he pressed. “And even if you don’t,” added quickly, seeing as Six was about to shake her head, “you at least have some theory. I think you should share it with us, in order to save all our asses!”

Six watched him intensely, a soft mocking smile twisting her lips. But inside she was fuming. She couldn’t understand how anything she knew would help them, and by saying it, she’d lose the only advantage she still had over humans!

But what would this advantage serve, if they were all dead?

“I can’t see how any of this will help, but I think Kara is Geminese. In fact I suspect she’s a daughter of the tribe of Gemiese orthodox. The cylon didn’t manage to penetrate them, so we know close to nothing about them, but there were legends--” She hesitated, unsure if she should continue, and reveal one of the cylon’s sectrets.

“What legends?” Sam inquired impatiently.

“About Pythia,” Six said quietly, hoping her beliefs will come true right this moment.

And they did.

“Pythia!” Kara’s eyes flashed as a sudden memory returned. A memory of her father’s songs. “She described the road to Earth,” Kara’s voice was only a tone above unaudible. “But the Scriptures are that description. How did they get to the Colonies?”

“Someone brought them,” Sam begun to understand. At least that part. “But what does it have to do with us?”

Six sighed. All was out in the open. “We thought that Geminese tribe were the descendants of those who brought the Scriptures from Earth. Some of us thought that anyway. But then the majority of the cylon decided to wipe out the colonies, and the Geminese tribe perished along with many others.”

“Do you regret it now?” Sam seethed, feeling a sudden surge of fierce hatred. He bit at it though, bit the inside of his cheek so hard he felt the taste of blood oh his tongue.

“I do regret it,” Six admitted quitely to his surprise. “I think we misunderstood God’s will. But God gave us a second chance.” She looked intensely at Starbuck, and Starbuck relized who she was -- the last inheritor of the blood of Earth.

“You’re going to lead us to your home,” Six whispered. “This is your destiny, Number Four was right.”

\---

Number Four was far from thinking about Kara Thrace’s destiny at the moment however.

He run as fast as he could to the room in which the Hybrid still laughed. He nearly fell into the chamber, and stared at it wide-eyed, breathing hard.

It was unaware of his presence, as always, but its eyes shone with joy and excitement. Then it stopped laughing, and started whispering, very fast:

“Rejoice, rejoin, forgotten is memory that blossoms in the precipice of time flying, flowing together not if you go, you shall come, say, say about his coming, is coming, his destiny takes revenge on a different level of communication with the enemy who wants nothing but the rain -- grab the gun and bring in the cat -- again she does in a repetitive circle of a chariot escaping the star that shines above and beyond the nebula but another is danger--” The Hybrid stopped and lifted its head. Its lage, wide eyes locked with the Four’s, who kneeled beside its pool in silent anticipation. “Danger,” it repeated, and again, “danger.” It wasn’t smiling any longer.

“What danger?” he urged in a whisper, though he knew that talking to it was pointless most of the time.

“Rebirth or birth or death or life, choices, choices she must make, but he’s coming, he’s here already.” It fell silent again. And after a bit it commenced its monologue once more, in a more subdued and even voice, preparing itself for the jump Eleven ordered, and Number Four knew this was all. The words it had said earlier had a meaning for sure, now -- not so much, most likely.

And it tried to warn them about danger. What danger?

Who’s here already?

\---

“He’s ready,” Five announced.

“Are you sure about this?” Caprica Six asked, reluctant again. At least they weren’t trying to kill her yet, but there was just one step from this, to that.

“Would you really miss me so much?” a voice inside her head asked and a vision of her inner Gaius stepped from behind her, to stare at his counterpart’s body floating inside the goo. “I’m touched.” He turned back to her with a mocking smile that made him so lovely for some reason.

“Aren’t you?” Sharon looked at her intently. “I thought we agreed?”

Caprica hesitated. If she replied in affirmative, as she wanted to respond to Gaius’ question, it wouldn’t exactly be a correct answer to Sharon. She wanted to have him alive at first, but when she realized it would be followed by spliting her up with her inner Gaius, she begun to have second thoughts. Most of the time he annoyed her and she should want to get rid of him, but--

They were so different, inner Gaius, and real Gaius. Almost as if they had never been the same person. 

“You think we were,” said the arrogant man, standing in front of her, “because you believed in Five’s theory, that our personalities got split up and mixed up in the nuclear explosion he survived.” He gestured toward the goo. “But what if Five is wrong? How could that be God’s plan?” mocked again.

“God’s will is beyond our understanding,” Caprica whispered.

“Ah,” Sharon sighed and the blonde cylon relized she gave the wrong answer after all.

\---

Terrible. This was terrible! So close, he’d been so close to learning his destiny, to finding out his true identity. He’d been the Chosen One! Chosen for what? Chosen to die?

This wasn’t supposed to happen! That damned Lee Adama, and that other – pyramid player.

And Six -- he remembered. Of course they couldn’t hear her, but he remembered now that she had told them “Oh, just shot him and be done with it!” And Anders had taken his gun out and shot him!

Where was Six? He’d tell her what he thought about it! Where was she?

Where was he?

Baltar sprung out of the goo, frantically fighting for breath, shivering with cold, and hot, and crawling out of his itching skin. He looked around and through the haze of goo sticking to his eyelashes he saw a Six -- probably Caprica -- an Eight and a Five.

“What the--” he started, not recognizing his voice -- so squeaky and trembling. “Am I a cylon?”

\---

Take a bath, drink something, maybe even eat -- those were the luxuries the inhabitants of the Temple were not allowed yet. Anastasia Dualla was tempted to run into the head, and start crying right there, under the warm, comforting streams of water. But something was happening with the Temple, something that made her change her mind, and pospone the pleasure. She ascended to the control level, but as she was nearing the corridor leading to the elliptic chamber, she changed her mind again.

As the opened elevator between this and the upper-most level of the Temple appeared in her field of vision, Dualla’s heart started beatting faster. It was like a sudden realization that was just a breath out of her reach. Like a déja vu.

It has all happened before.

\---  
t.b.c.

 

\---   
 **Chapter Fifteen**  
\--- 

Kara gaped dumbly at Number Six. Home? Earth was supposed to be her home? Her ancestors home? Her father was an Earthling. She couldn’t remember him very clearly, neither she could remember her mother, but she recalled music. His music. 

“Fine,” she choked out finally. “Earth.” 

She felt nauseous again, but gritted her teeth against it. She’d lead them to Earth. The only problem was she had no idea what direction to turn. Looked at the monitors again, at the star displayed on all of them now, in various sizes, described with various symbols. 

She extended her hand and hesitated before she touched anything. 

“Listen to your instinct,” Six urged. 

“And get us out of here, before we’re too deep in the gravity well,” Sam’s voice was louder and distressed. 

Kara took a deep breath. She was the only one who could save them. But she still felt they didn’t need saving, despite the tinge of panic in the man’s voice. Damn, he had right to panic! She understood that. They were about to burn in the star’s crown, she led them to it. It was hardly a road to Earth. 

She extended her fingers again, only to withdraw them. Didn’t know what to do to turn this ship the way she wanted! 

“Kara,” heard Sam’s whisper right next to her ear. “Do something!” 

But what? Earlier, when she touched the surface and the colors started dancing, she just played with them; it was like painting. She needed to do it. Now she felt she needed to do nothing. Listen to your instinct -- Six said. 

“We have to wait,” she whispered back. 

“Wait for death?” Sam lost his temper. He reached over her arm, and was about to touch the blank grayish surface, when Kara rammed into him pushing him away. He fell to the floor screaming with pain and Kara felt sorry. She didn’t mean that! 

“Sam--” Kneeled beside him, concerned, but now it was his turn to push her away. 

“What are you thinking? Damn you Kara, this ship is heading for a disaster! We--” he choke and only pleaded with her silenly. 

“I don’t know Sam. I only know that we can’t touch anything. Anything!” 

That was what her instinct was telling her. And she had to obey. Before she gathered words to tell him that, the ship moaned terryfyingly, and a flash of blue light entered the control room, shining from the corridor around the column. 

But instead of looking there, Kara gazed at the monitors and the at slanted surface. It’s colors woke up for a brief moment in dazzling, bliding swirl, before everything was immersed in radiant blue. 

\--- 

“We lost the signal, sir!” Gaeta reported as the Galactica concluded the jump. 

They were one jump away from the target! 

“Maybe we should send a raptor there to investigate?” Tigh suggested grumbly. He knew his suggestion would be ignored anyway. 

“It would take them five jumps if not more,” Adama dismissed the idea absently. “Launch CAP.” They were going to leave the civilian fleet right here, protected by the extended CAP, consisting of two full squads. Using the same tactic Commander Adama used when he’d gone to their rescue at New Caprica. The older Adama couldn’t remember if he’d ever commended his son for this move. He’d thanked him alright, but there had been so much to do then, there simply had been no time. No time. 

“CAP launched and in position.” 

“If we go into the cylon trap we’ll have close to no defence,” Tigh grumbled once more. 

“We have two other squads,” Adama retorted again. They were going to do it, no matter what. 

“We lost that distress signal. We don’t even know what caused it’s fading!” Tigh tried another approach, but was ignored once more. 

“Begin jump-prep.” 

\--- 

The uppermost level of the Temple was bright like day. After exiting the elevator Dualla could easily see their belongings laying around as they teft them: the pot of green goo, bowls filled with unfinished food. Muddled cots. 

The lamps couldn’t generate that much light. 

Dee stepped down from the platform, and turned around. 

The crystals were glowing. 

So that’s why they were going toward the star! The ship was commencing a jump --Kara Thrace did it right again! There was no joy in it for the young Lieutenant, only resentment and envy. How did Starbuck know that? She pointed them toward that star based on what? Her gut pilot instinct? 

Damn! Dualla was never that annoyed in her life. Why? Why everything that woman touched was turning in her favor? And she couldn’t even appreaciate it! 

Angry and desolate, the slender woman stared at the column and at the mandalas upon it, turning slowly. She gritted her teeth and approached the column. There was a lamp nearby, the one they used to decipher the writings. Dee grabbed it, detached the head, and thrust the end of the rod into the revolving sunrays of the mandala. It didn’t stop the spinning; the stick bounced back, hitting her in the arm and pushing her to the floor. The pain didn’t register yet; rage was too strong. 

Dualla got up. Her eyes scanned the surface of the mandala. It was ancient, full of cracks. If she could find one large enough . . . There! Carefully she inserted one end of the stick in the crack, at the sharp angle and, as the mandala turned, the other end of the stick hit the floor. 

The mandala stopped. 

The ship moaned, lights atop the clompn flashed, then with a piercing screech the stick shifted position. As the force from the mandala pressed on it, it moved further, until it sprung in the air, straight toward the petite woman standing close by. 

Dee couldn’t possibly avoid it. But in this surprisingly long moment she had plenty of time to wonder what she wanted to accomplish? Was trying to rub Starbuck the wrong way really worth it? 

\--- 

“What the frak just happened?” Sam asked when colors returned to normal. 

Kara jumped up to the monitors, and saw no sign of a star that had been on each of them only a moment ago. 

“We jumped,” she whispered. “That’s what happened! This ship needs the energy from a star to jump. Just like it acquired the energy from the Nova earlier.” Excited, she turned first to Sam, who was gathering himself from the floor. Kara jumped up to him and helped him up. 

“Fine, so where are we now?” Sam asked, and together they looked at the blonde cylon, who was searching for something on the monitors. “Six?” 

“I think you’re right, about the way the Temple commences a jump. As for where we are--” She gestured to the monitors. 

One displayed the twisting curves, lines and ellypses. The other -- a star from close distance, and as far as could be told, it was different from that previous star. It was yellow, instead of white. One more screen showed the star from a distance, and seven smaller dots in various points around the center. The symbols -- letters -- were appearing and disappearing; lines were being drawn. The circles around the sun -- the orbits of planets. 

“Is that Earth?” Sam gasped, but Six said nothing, and she didn’t appear excited. She expected Starbuck to share her feelings. 

“Uh--” said Starbuck. “Apparently.” 

“Of course it is Earth!” Sam was in full-blown excited mode. “You found it!” He held Kara tightly, gasped from pain again, and resigned from trying to lift her, and revolve. He completelly forgot she’d just pushed him away. “You’re the best,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“But which one is it?” Kara shot a glance at the monitors, not really sharing his enthusiasm. 

“Oh, you’ll find it.” Sam lost none of his belief in his wife. “But, uh, I think I’d better leave the two of you to the task,” he admitted regretfully. Now that the problem appeared to be solved, the weariness and pain were disturbing him too much; he craved for some comfort, and Six had said there had been beds below. 

“What?--” Kara appeared concerned, but Sam dismissed her. 

“Get us home.” He squeezed her arm and limped off to the elevators. 

Kara looked after him for a moment, then sighed and turned back to Six. The cylon’s blue eyes were glowing with expectation and religious zeal. It frightened her to the levels she couldn’t quite comprehend, but she had little choice now. 

She touched the surface, hoping the Temple would guide her fingers again. 

\---   
 **Chapter Sixteen** **  
**\---

“FTL is ready, sir,” Gaeta reported. 

Maybe Colonel Tigh was right? Maybe they were jumping head-first in danger? Suddenly the President feared her Admiral was acting reckless. She was the only one who had witnessed his break-down, who knew he might have been self-destructive. And “self” in case of this man, meant the entire Fleet. 

Worried, her eyes met the one eye of Saul Tigh. There was worry in it too, he must have known what was Bill’s state of mind! He was the Admiral’s best friend. That was why he’d been trying to stop this recon attempt, he realized the Admiral was not making rational decisions. 

And suddenly Laura understood. Bill thought this distress call was from Lee! It was as implausible as finding Earth right this moment, but they were talking, she gave him those arguments, this false hope about Lee still being alive and searching for them, and then there was this distress call. It was only understandable that the mourning father would jump to conclusions. 

She had to relieve him of duty, she hated that, but now she realized how much risk he was putting the Fleet at. Colonel Tigh’s brow jumped up, as he guessed what thoughts were running through her head. Laura opened her mouth to give the order. 

But Bill forestalled her. 

“Jump!” he said. 

\--- 

Four Number Fours were sitting beside Hybrid’s pool, listening to her soft murmur. She was smiling again. 

“...Odys’ journey stopped for seven years old child is the fifth prophet decided to kill Calypso too late to retrieve the message from the God is warning that it will happen again as it happened before the storm there’s silence, jump! -- oh -- only two of the three can survive. . .” 

Another Four stood beside Eleven in the control center, his hands immersed in the electrodynamic fluid, receiving Hybrid’s message on a subconscious level and understanding as much of it as the other Fours were. But he was also observing the space around an A-class white dwarf they jumped to a moment ago. The star was enormous and it was absolutely not possible that any planet surrounding it would sustain life. 

It was also unlikely that any living organism would survive in it’s orbit. Whoever had sent that distress call from those coordinates, had probably burnt in the star’s huge crown. Pity. 

One more Four entered the room where Baltar was crawling out from the pool of goo. 

“I am a cylon!” he tried to convince the Six, the Eight and the Five. “I am not a cylon? But I am. You downloaded me. I am one of the Final Five cylon. You have to admit that!” 

“You may be the thirteenth cylon,” Five mocked sympathetically. 

“Gaius,” Six lay a gentle hand on the man’s arm, naked and still covered with the slickly goo. It was Caprica -- Four realized. “Gaius, you need to take it easy. You‘ve just been through a difficult experience, give yourself some time.” 

“I don’t want to--” Baltar wanted to shout, but the Hybrid’s cry interrupted him. It was the cry all of the cylon knew, and longed for: the battle cry! They were about to face the enemy. 

\--- 

It was too dangerous to stop the FTL from fiering up once the countdown started, so Laura shut her mouth. And then they jumped . . . Right on top of the Basestar. 

“Set Condition One throughout the ship!” an order sounded. 

“Damn, they got here first.” Bill gritted his teeth, staring intently at the DRAIDS console. 

Basestar was not launching raiders. 

“What are they doing?” Colonel Tigh grumbled. 

The air in the CIC was so dense with anticipation it could be cut with a knife. Everyone stared at the Admiral and the Admiral stared at the basestar, blinking on DRAIDS. 

\--- 

The Hybrid was ready to fight, to send raiders in hunt for human blood. But Sharon Agathon was quicker. 

She realized what the cry meant a nanosecond before anyone else did. The Hybrid spotted human. Humans meant Galactica. Galactica meant Helo. 

She tapped into the stream of data, and ordered them to wait. 

“We want the same thing they do!” she said, and everyone who was attached to the fluid, that was the Basestar’s blood, could hear her. 

“We want the human race wiped out,” Eleven observed. “Are you sure they want that as well?” 

“We want to find Earth. As well as they do. Why can’t we do it together?” 

“And wipe them out once we find Earth,” offered Three. “That’s a very clever plan, I didn’t expect that of you, Sharon.” She smirked. 

“I didn’t--” Sharon gasped. She wasn’t the best at manipulating her fellow cylons. All she wanted was to return to her husband with their child. That’s why she couldn’t let the Basestar attack the Galactica! 

She couldn’t come up with anything though. Eleven and Three won. 

The Basestar launched raiders. 

\--- 

“Do we launch vipers, sir?” Gaeta asked, hand on the switch, ready to relay the message to the hangar deck. 

“Any sign on whoever had sent that distress call?” Adama asked instead of giving order. Raiders were closing in on them and Basestar shot a few missiles. 

“Nothing, sir!” 

“Then get us back to the Fleet, Mr Gaeta,” Adama replied in his usual calm and husky manner. “Commence jump prep.” 

Tigh said nothing, though he wanted to complain on unnecessary loss of tylium. But at least no one was going to waste pilots and birds for nothing, as he’d earlier feared. The President also breathed out with relief. 

The Galactica shook from the impact of the first missile. 

\--- 

Sharon run through the Basestar’s corridors behind the fast-pacing Baltar -- clad only in a towel they provided him with at the ressurection site -- and long-legged Caprica. And with Four’s breath at her neck. 

“What does he intend to do?” the male cylon asked. 

Number Five stayed behind, dumbfounded, but Fours were persistent. And they had a thing for humans almost like she herself did. And Caprica. Other Sixes and Eights had more reserve, but Fours were, in general, obsessed. With one human -- Starbuck -- in particular. But since Starbuck perished in the Nova’s blast, Fours had gone even further out of their minds. 

This was nothing compared to Baltar’s madness though. After Five, Sharon and Caprica had explained to him exactly what had happened with him, and after Sharon had freaked out about the Basestar killing the Galactica right this moment, Baltar took off from the ressurection site with the speed they did not suspect him of. Especially not right after being resurrected. 

“What are you planning Gaius?” Caprica hissed, only half a step behind him. 

But he did not respond, only quickened his pace. 

They were all astounded when they suddenly found themselves in the Hybrid’s chamber. Another Four was exiting on the other side, now stopped and stared at the party coming in questioningly. 

“Doctor Baltar?” It was Sharon’s turn to display her anxiety. 

She felt chills running down her spine, and Four’s -- the one accomplanying them -- rapid breathing wasn’t making her feel any less uncomfortable. 

The Hybrid was murmuring it’s divinations. 

Baltar tip-toed toward the tub. His face was set, a mask of determination, eyes open wide and brimming with unfulfilled expectations. It had given him a promise, and it hadn’t kept it. 

“Don’t touch it!” Four warned, they couldn’t say which one, but Baltar didn’t hear him. 

He crouched beside the pool and watched the Hybrid’s mouth moving swiftly, drank meaningless words from it’s lips. Then he extended his hand and, despite the Fours’ outraged shriek, immersed it in the Hybrid’s fluid. 

It quivered, and gasped. Shot a glance at the intruder that should burn him to nothing more than a pile of ashes, and then the Hybrid moaned with dreadful extasy, screamed, “It’s back!” and jumped them all out of the location. 

\--- 

“FTL ready, sir!” Gaeta announced, but before Adama gave an oder to jump, the officer added in a shocked voice. “Wait! I’m receiving the distress call again!” And right after that, he added, “The Basestar’s just jumped away. Raiders are scattered all around.”

\---  
 **Chapter Seventeen** **  
**\---

Sam felt ugly for abandoning Kara like that, but he had no more strength to withstand the pain. 

As the elevator stopped on the lower level though, he forgot about his troubles for a second, as he marveled the beauty of the sight. The central column was the same as above and in the Temple hall – all with the mysterious writings and the mandalas. But the corridor was wide and immersed in soft blue-green light. At least compared to the upper level, that seemed reddish.

Sam stepped out carefully, and looked around. On eiter side of the lift there were cubicles partially obscured from view, the next room to the left was larger and open and appeared to be some kind of common room, maybe a mess-hall, the other two areas were hidden behind the column, but Sam suspected there were sleeping quarters as well, and in the one on the right he noticed tangled bed covers – obviously Major Adama was in there.

He felt he should go there, and check on Adama, but then he corrected himself -- Dualla was already there, most likely. And then the grumble in his stomach confirmed the decision to first go the the apparent mess-hall, and then, hopefully, to bed. If the Temple was kind enough to give them shelter, means of transport and comfy accomodations, perhaps it could also give them food?

He limped to the area located underneath the control center. All equipment was in soft warm shade of gray. There was an elliptic table in the center of it, and five chairs. In the walls on height of man’s strip there were five niches, about two feet high, and Sam approached one of them. There was a site shaped as a human palm.

A little hesitant, the tall man placed his palm in the hole and felt warmth as the soft pastel colors flashed briefly. For a moment nothing happened, and then the wall muttered incomprehensibly, and an opening appeared in the nishe. A bowl full of some whitish substance came out, complete with a spoonish thingie.

Sam’s stomach grumbled again, with anticipation this time. This thing certainly looked more appetizing than the green goo, and the hungry man absorbed it in few large gulps, barely making it to a chair.

Having eatten the food, Sam felt relaxed and almost happy. He stretched his limbs, and noticed his leg did not hurt any more. It shocked him and for a moment he thought he’d been miraculously healed, but no. The leg was still broken. He must have goten some sort of pain medication, though. Probably in the food. He stared at the empty bowl with amusement.

Then he carefully got up, and took off to the sleeping quarters. For a brief moment he considered a bath -- there in the far corner of the mess-hall, was something that could only be the head -- but then he thought, he’d do it after he got some well deserved sleep. He also fought the urge to return to Kara’s side, and his responsible and caring side succumbed this time to the selfish little boy. Kara would understand – he told himself.

So he entered one of the compartments, but as he did, he cast a glance into the single occupied cubicle. And then glanced farther in. Dualla wasn’t there with her husband. And it was strangely quiet there. For a few heartbits Sam couldn’t understand what was so disturbing, but then it hit him -- Lee was silent.

Completely silent.

Over the last few days he’d goten so used to the man’s raspy breathing, this silence was rather uncomfortable. It was probably some other trick of the Temple, maybe it had given the sick man some medication -- Sam tried to comfort himself, cautiously approaching the man’s bed. Lee looked deathly pale.

Fighting the surge of panic, Sam leaned and touched the Major’s wrist. Slowly lifted it, trying to find a pulse.

He couldn’t. Refused to believe there was none, serached again.

“Major. Apollo. You can’t--” whispered unaware of it. Touched the other man’s face -- it was warm. Not hot, like it used to be, but warm. “You can’t die, Lee.”

Pressed his ear to the man’s chest. The heartbeat was there. Faint and unsteady, but there nonetheless. But Sam heard no sound of breathing.

“Oh, Gods!” he begged divine intervention. Or at least a Temple to react! “Do something!”

\---

After moments of hesitation and some convincing from the cylon Kara placed her hands on the flat slanted surface once again. This time she didn’t feel she asolutely shouldn’t do it, there was no foreboding. The colors danced, and she felt like finger-painting. There was the final picture in her head and she tried to reach this effect, it was exhilarating. The Temple responded to her attempts.

Six watched the pilot and the displays on the screens. She had an impression that Starbuck wasn’t really aware of the changes her movements caused, she was so immersed in her task.

One of the planets was marked now, and it’s pictures appeared on several monitors in various sizes. It was growing on each of them, changing. The line appeared around it and Six guessed it was the orbit they were going to stop at.

It didn’t take long, but apparently exhausted the pilot. Kara swayed, as the display of the orbit changed color on the screen. She lifted her palms to clutch her aching stomach and the picture of mandala, colored in green, pink and orange, slowly faded from the slanted surface.

Six stared at it, trying to comprehend the meaning of this new mandala. But Starbuck simply sighed with unfathomabe regret.

“It’s not Earth,” she whispered.

\---

Dualla was waken up by nausea. She touched her aching head, and felt something sticky there. Blood.

She knew it was bad. She thought she’d been dead already, but apparently someone decided it was not her time yet. If she were to survive though, she had to return to the others, let them take care of her like she’d taken care of them so far. She had to get up and get to the elevator.

But she had no strength to get up.

She tried to crawl, but that proved to be too straining as well. She was dizzy and tired and she gave up soon. She hadn’t given up before, but now she did, and she could not understand why. Was she counting on some intervention from beyond? She believed this was the only thing that could save her now.

\---

Kara leaned over the console as another hit of sickness tried to rip her intestines from her.

“I think you should rest,” Six whispered gently, laying her hand on the woman’s back. “You’re tired.”

“I’m afraid there’s more to it,” Kara whispered, before she realized what she was saying.

The thought had been right there, just behind the safety net of unawareness, for quite a while, but she hadn’t let it in so far. She couldn’t let it in. Denial was better. So she turned back to it’s safety.

But that damned cylon figured it out somehow.

“Are you pregnant?” she asked disbelievingly.

And normally Kara would respond in the negative no matter what, but the denial wasn’t firm yet, and she hesitated a heartbeat too long before stating. “No!” And she stated it a notch to loudly.

“Now I understand!” Six exclaimed. “Apollo. Do you remember the myth? Apollo was born on the floating island, but when he was born, the island got instilled. The Temple is that island from the myth, that’s what the inscriptions on the column are saying!”

“Apollo?” Kara gasped. “But Apollo is--” She gestured toward the floor, thinking of the wounded man she had weird feelings for.

“He is not the Apollo from the myth. This one is.” Six placed a hand on the woman’s belly and smiled. “This is the shape of things to come. I had been so wrong.”

\---  
 **Chapter Eighteen** **  
**\---

The Temple did nothing to aid Sam, so he tried some old-fashioned mouth to mouth on Lee Adama, and caused the man a coughing fit. But at least his breathing returned some. Now if he could only find the way to feed him that whitish substance. Sam was certain, that if he placed Apollo’s hand in that nishe, the Temple would produce just the right mixture of anitbiotics and vitamins, to get the man back on his feet in no-time.

But placing the palm there, without disembodying it was only one part of the problem. Another was feeding an unconscious person. Dee would find a way.

Where was Dee?

She couldn’t get lost on a ship this size!

Sam checked again on the Major’s shallow, but at least existant now breathing and returned to the corridor. There were five pillars there, marking the corners of the hexagon, and one empty slot. But they were in different configuration than above.

Way back in the big hall they had been in earlier, there were five pillars too, also marking the five corners of a hexagon. The sixth corner was empty. And only one pillar, the one opposite to the epty corner, the one facing the picture of ellipse on the floor, was an elevator between the hall and the control level. But it did not allow communication between the control, and this level – it did not exist here, there was no pillar at the entrance to the mess-hall. The other four pillars were the lifts between the two levels. But where did the sixth pilar lead? Sam was now sure it was an elevator just as well.

He stood facing the mandala. There were four circles on it, and they agreed earlier that the outer one, with sun-rays on it, represented the hall. The red would be control and it fitted. Even the light there was reddish! Here was the blue-green level on living quarters, but what was that golden circle inside for?

Somewhat reluctantly, but driven by human curiosity, Sam touched the surface of the sixth pilar. He tried stroking it’s carved letters. But nothing happened.

Of course, the Temple needed Starbuck, the Heir of Earth, to make all those new wonders work.

A soft cough from the compartment reminded Sam of Lee Adama. He needed to get someone down here, to watch for Lee anyway, before he set on a search and rescue mission for Dee. So he limped back to one of the other elevators, ascended to the control center and came in on the two women just as Six was announcing that she’d been so wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked alarmed. “What happened?”

Six opened her mind, all happy and elated, but who could realy tell what exhiliarated the cylons, but Kara forstalled her.

“Nothing!” she blurted out. Six cast her an astonished stare, but Kara ignored her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting.”

“Yeah,” Sam gazed at his leg, smiling, “but the most unusuall thing happened.” He sombered. “And Dualla is missing. And Apollo-- Well. Apollo isn’t well.”

“Where did Dualla go?”

“That’s the thing we need to find out.”

They agreed that the ship could be left in orbit without a pilot for awhile. After some discussion, and Sam telling them all he discovered, also about the meds in the food and his ideas of how to help Adama -- Kara insisted that they should save Apollo, and Six appeared reluctant for a brief moment -- they decided that Sam would check the hall above. After all Dee could have wandered there just as well as below. Meanwhile the cylon and Starbuck descended to the lower level; the human to investigate the pillar, and the cylon to take care of the other human.

Six was certain now that she understood God’s will, but here was another complication. She thought there was to be the five of them, and that in order to preserve the child, one had to die. Apollo was the obvious choice, for he was dying already. But here Sam Anders, whatever his purpose here was, had found the way to save the other man’s life. Probably save, it was far from over.

And also Dualla was missing, another unpredicted variable. What if she was the one that should die?

Six lifted the limp human body. The delicate shell for the mind and soul. They were so easly damaged, yet God seemed to have a purpose for them nonetheless. She carried him over to the mess hall, shoting a glance at Starbuck, all focused, on the way. She place the limp palm inside the nishe, just like Sam instructed. Colors danced between the thin fingers and after a moment there appeared a bowl with a whitish substance, just like Sam described.

Six took it and placed on the table. Then she carried the unconscious man back to his bed, and took the bowl after that. Starbuck stood beside the pillar watching her.

“Do you wish to feed him?” the cylon asked, and Starbuck shook her head. Didn’t say anything more, so the cylon took to her task.

It was nearly impossible at first, and she was ready to give up, even frightened that the man might choke. But surprisingly he appeared to regain some consciousness after a few spoons were inserted in his mouth. He swallowed, and opened them again and again and again. The bowl was then finished really swiftly.

“That’s all,” the cylon whispered, stroking the man’s cheek. “Rest now.”

Lee never opened his eyes, but now he nodded lightly, and obviously fell back to sleep. Sleep now, conscious and healing.

Six turend to Starbuck, standing in the entrance, and smiled.

The woman smiled too, but looked concerned all the same.

“What is it?” the cylon inquired.

“It wouldn’t move.” Kara gestured toward the final elevator. “I mean it moves up alright. It comes from whatever is there below, and waits. I enter, and nothing happens. I have no idea what’s wrong.”

Six rose and went outside. Kara showed her everything she was doing and true, the lift came up, she was standing inside of it, but she wasn’t able to make it go back down. Then she stepped out of it, and it immediatelly hid back in the gorund.

“I even tried jumping in as it started moving down, but it immediatelly stopped and returned here!” She vexed, turning to the cylon.

And the sight hit her.

Here she was, standing beside the pillar. She had a view of the other four pilars, and Six was standing beside another one. The other three were empty.

“Oh my Gods,” Kara whispered. “We must all enter the pillars, only then they will get us below. All of us.”

And Six was dumbfounded again. For that meant all five adult inhabitants of the Temple had to be alive and relatively healthy to discover the final mystery of the Temple. The phoetus in Kara’s womb was of no service to them at that point, unless they waited enough time for the Temple to accept him as the fifth resident.

\---  
 **Chapter Nineteen** **  
**\---

The Hybrid was not self-aware. But it was not completelly unaware either. It was aware of the currents of the Universe, the threads of destiny, flowing around the world like the Five Rivers around the Tartarus. Always returning to the same point over and over again.

But sometimes there apeared a stone large enough to alter the course of the river of time. A rock. It changed the destiny, broke the circle of events repeating for millenia.

Or maybe it was only a part of a larger cycle?

The thirteenth Lord of Kobol made that change eons ago. Was the thirteenth cylon going to do the same now?

He jumped with the Hybrid this time, and it knew he experienced it just like it did. The currents of eternity folding into a point, and errupting with a glory of vacuum. 

And life, right there, in the orbit of a planet that would host it with grace and gratitude. The five priests, the five prophets of a new cycle. New Abolo, new seed of life.

\---

But Baltar was aware. Self-aware, self-centered actually, but now also aware of the currents of the Universe, and threads of destiny. And he wasn’t fond of them, he didn’t like the circle of events that happened before and would happen again. He was the one that should be in that Temple! He knew for sure, that destiny had made a terrible mistake, because he was one of the chosen five. And although he didn’t really like the thought of being one of the five, it was better than being one of the mob.

He had to find the way to get to the Temple, and he already had the means. His hand still immersed in the Hybrid’s fluid – the Hybrid was still screaming – Baltar remembered what it was like to jump. He remembered how she did it and he wondered if he’d be able to iniciate the jump himself, and for hismself only. And if he’d be able to end up in the right destination, not in the midst of the vacuum.

That being his last thought, he was engulfed with a white light--

\---

And enormous hit shook the entire Temple just as Sam draged unconscious Dualla into the elevator. He should have gone down, get Six here to do the job. It would probably be much faster. But he thought of it just now, too stunned and terrified before. Another member of their little group was dying. This was too much!

And now someone was shooting at the Temple!

“You--” he heard a breathless voice and looked up--

\--to see the pale, naked figure standing in the shadow.

The man’s hair were black, plastered in damp strands to his face. His black huge eyes bore into Sam, and teriffied him to the bone. The man clutched a sopping towel to his lower abdomen, covering what little of his exposure he could.

“You killed me,” the man breathed out, extending a trembling finger and Sam freaked out.

Quicker than the thought, Sam loaded himself and limp Dualla into the elevator, and it moved down. The moment he found himself on the control level, and saw Kara and Six running toward the elliptic room, he jumped out and started screaming and babbling incoherently.

The two women stared at him, then Kara grabbed him and yelled into his face to shut the frak up! And Six bent to check on Dualla.

“What is it, Sam?” Kara asked, but before he formulated a response, she turned to the cylon. “How is she?”

“No pulse,” Six whispered. “She’s dead.” The tall blonde lifted her gaze and it was burning with fury. She stood up, breathing deep through clenched teeth.

“It’s destiny,” Kara whispered to her. “Like you said. There needs to be five of us. We have to land on the planet and wait.” She was still in denial about who this fifth person would be, and she was even aware of that denial in a funny way. “We’ll get below when the right time comes.”

“But we’ll never be able to lift off again!” Six screamed in exasperation. “There needs to be a Nova explosion to get this started.”

“We didn’t get far from that white dwarf we’d been near. In a few thousand years, who knows--” she fell silent and the cylon looked at her, comprehension downing. 

“It has all happened before.”

The two women fell silent, and Sam thought this was as good moment as any.

“There’s a ghost up there,” he squeaked.

\---

They removed Dualla’s body and started disputing who should go up first. Sam wasn’t going to, no way, and he wouldn’t let Starbuck. Six said it’s obvious that she should go, but then the elevator moved up, without any of them inside.

“Frak!” Six slammed the wall.

“He’s coming down,” Sam whispered, afraid he might faint. This was someone he killed? Maybe it was a cylon and it was resurrected, but he could not remember a cylon of those features.

He would face him soon enough anyway.

They waited for a few immesureably long moments, before the elevator started descending again. As it did, Six extended her hand and grabbed one of Sam’s hand-made crutches. Not that it would work against a ghost, but it was still better that the cylon had some means of defence.

The stick fell out of her hand with a clutter though, at the sight of the man inside the lift.

He seemed to be looking at the ghost as well, as he sunk to the floor, terror in his wide open eyes, staring at Number Six.

It was Kara, who recognized him first.

“Baltar?” she gasped.

\---

The Hybrid was aware of the currents of destiny. And destiny required it to stop the humans from contacting the Five in the Temple at all costs.

But that had been before the Mind that Burns Like Fire stepped in and interrupted the steady flow of the Stream of Time.

The Galactica jumped in to the system, but this time the Basestar did not attack. And the Galactica, having given two warning shots, flew straight toward the Temple hovering in orbit of the planet.

The Hybrid waited for the destiny to be formed anew.

\---

"Bow pitch positive three quarters. Stern pitch positive full." Gaeta commanded the helm, trying to do both – escape the Basestar and get to the planet where their goal was in orbit. The mysterious object that was sending the distress call.

They tried to call it, but received no response so far. Admiral Adama was staring at the DRAIDS in silence and so were Colonel Tigh and President Roslin. All of them knowing they were witnessing something incredible right this moment.

They needed to get to the object before the cylons did.

\---  
 **Chapter Twenty** **  
**\---

He should have known. He should have known she’d be back sooner or later. What had it been she’d said after Gina? “I’ve never left you.” His angel and his demon in red dress, with blonde curls and glorious smile.

He could even say he missed her and it was her he wanted to talk to, it really was, but he had to address the others, those real ones first and foremost. Starbuck of course, who else, and her pyramid lover. Or was it husband?

The one who’d shot him, because his inner Six had told him to. Although he couldn’t hear her of course.

This was too confusing.

Baltar gathered himself, and straightened his pose, still pressing the priceless towell to his belly. 

“Well, hello,” he said. “What a pleasure to see you again,” he extended his hand toward Starbuck, but the woman backed two steps, with hateful look on her face.

“It’s not reciprocated,” she seethed.

Anders remained silent, and Number Six asked, “Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Oh,” Baltar smiled to Starbuck, “of course.” There was something odd about Six’s voice, it was not as seductive as it used to be. Well, she could have been a little angry, after all he’d been supposed to reach the Temple much sooner. But it had been her fault too, in a way.

Intending to avoid Starbuck’s gaze Baltar looked around.

“Cozy,” he commented, staring at the column, with mandala on it; at the pilar, and then further, inside the corridor.

“You don’t even know.” It was unmistakeably Six’s response.

“What are we going to do with him?” asked Starbuck, and Baltar realized he was standing with his back to them, exposing his naked posterior.

He turned around sharply.

“How did you survive anyway?” Six asked reservedly.

“Oh, I could help you, I’m sure.” He replied. “There are things you would never guessed about me, and since the Basestar is right around the corner, y’know, you wouldn’t want to harm me.”

“There’s hardly anything I’d do with greater joy,” Starbuck seethed.

“I second,” Sam finally regained his voice and it was as full of hate as that of his wife.

“And I object,” Six disagreed. For whatever good that was, since she was only a representation of his frightened self.

Baltar tried to smile, and both Kara and Sam looked at Six.

She waited for Gaius to register this; them seeing her. And then she said, “There are five of us.”

\---

To Baltar’s great shock Kara immediatelly agreed with Six’s statement – whatever it meant. He knew of course about the Temple of Five, but what Six was referring to – and furthermore, how was it that Starbuck and Anders heard her! – remained a mystery. At least until Number Six told him about pillars and that they need five people to enter those.

“Are you sure you want to trust him with that?” Anders was cautious, but eventually he didn’t need much convincing from Kara. He wanted to uncover that secret as much as anybody else.

A moment later Six dragged a still naked Baltar to the lower level and ordered him to remain in his elevator. Kara checked on Lee and found that the Temple’s food worked miracles. He was awake, and after she briefly explained to him about the elevators and suspected lowest level of the Temple, he was determined to help resolve this final mistery. Aided by Six and Kara he took his position in the nearest elevator. Then Sam and the cylon took their posts, and lastly Kara aproached the pillar in the middle.

It came up, when called, and she entered it.

And just as she expected, all the pilars sunk into the ground.

They were passing through the thick deck for a few heartbeats. Too many heartbeats if anyone asked Kara. Or maybe her heart was beating too fast.

Finally though, they opened up to the round, large and high-ceilinged chamber, immersed in golden light. Threre was no column in the center of it, but some other object instead, undistinguishable at first sight. In the ceiling above it hung five blue crystals, much like the ones atop the column in the hall.

Kara stepped closer, ignoring her comrades, who were slowly emerging from their stalls.

She heard a soft whisper, a foreign lanuage that seemed familiar, yet she could not understand it. Was just beyond her reach, just like the comprehension of the paths of the Temple. Then in the midst of words, she caught: “--swims in the stream, sees the patterns that others do not see. Destiny has allready been written,” and stopped mid-step. These were the words that Leoben said to her so long ago, she barely remembered.

It wasn’t any of her friends talking.

The voice was coming from the center of the room, from a mass of pipes and wires and ducts of various sizes. The mound was revolwing slowly and as it turned to her, Kara saw a human face. It’s hair were wires, it’s eyes were all colors of the mandala, and it’s neck didn’t transform into arms and a whole body, but into a mass of flesh-clolored tubes. The face was neither male, nor female. It continued muttering and revolving and soon disappeared from Kara’s line of vision, turning to Sam, then to Baltar, then to an empty space, then to Lee Adama, supported by Number Six.

Then it stopped.

“The bearer of the new generation. You came,” the whisper changed into a full voice, welcoming at first, then surprised, irritated, “But where is the child?” And then nearly outraged, “But why aren’t we aground?”

The five people in the Temple stared at each other with surprise, and then Kara, feeling it was her obligation as the descendant of Earth, and the one who’s destiny was obviously setting all things in motion, spoke up:

“We haven’t landed yet, we were about to, but--”

“Your role is over, chariotter,” the being interrupted her angrily. “The chariot has been awaken. You brought the Moon.” After a pause it added softly, “And the Sun.” It seemed surprised. Then took a deep breath and it’s gaze turned toward the ceiling, the face contorting in spasms of extasy. It started whispering again, very fast, some unandarstandable words. And then-- “The currents are changing, the big circle was completed,” it announced and looked at the two people again. “The Sun and the Moon will come together upon Earth.” 

Everyone inside the chamber were stunned. Finally it was Kara again, who regained her voice first. That being was talking like Leoben, and she’d had enough of it all, long ago! This time she was going to force whomever was playing mind-games with her, to share.

“So?” she barked. “How are we going to do it?”

“The Sun and the Moon,” she heard a soft whisper from the side. Lee was looking at the being with burning eyes. “Apollo?” He wasn’t able to tell much more, his breath raspy and strained.

“The Sun and the Moon. Together,” the face responded. “The cycle of destiny is completed.”

Kara snorted. Talks about cycles, streams and destiny! And then she realized she remembered how those talks had irritated her before. How Leoben had been frakking with her, even her mother. She remembered Baltar! And everything else.

When did the memories return?

She looked around and realized Six was saying something.

“Apollo is also known as Helios, the Sun. Helios is traveling through the skyes in a chariot driven by Eos, also known as Aurora. But at evening Eos becomes the goddes of twilight and takes Selene, Luna – the Moon - into her chariot. That’s what is said in the Sacred Scrolls.” They all remained silent for a moment digesting the message. Then Six added. “But now the Moon and the Sun are together, he says. And that changes things, right?” she asked the being.

“The cycle is completed. The Sun and the Moon will come upon Earth. But the chariot is broken. Calisto had fulfilled her role before the cycle was completed.” It turned to Baltar and gasped. “Calisto is replaced! The new cycle is taking shape.” Then it bowed and lights in the room dimmed, “The chariot’s role is over.”

It’s mandala eyes closed, and the being ceased moving. Almost as if it became a statue.

“What?” Kara yelled. This was too early, they still had no answers! She was almost ready to jump at the thing, when Lee’s whisper stopped her mid-step.

“Together.” His voice had an odd edge to it. “I think he means--” he stopped for breath. “Humans and cylons. Together.”

A few days ago he’d have detested the idea fiercely. But now, for some strange reason, it felt right. Just like Six’s supporting arm around him. Did he remember her gentleness and caring, or was it a dream?

Kara and Sam both gaped at him dumbfounded, Baltar had his usual wierdo appearance, but Apollo was certain that Six understood.

\---  
 **Chapter Twenty One** **  
**\---

Racetrack was approaching the huge chunk of rock, hanging in orbit around a planet, with apprehension. At first look it appeared to be nothing more than a natural satelite, but this was obviously the very thing that called them here. The vessel sending a distress call.

As she came nearer, she saw a niche, a possible entrance.

The procedure took a while, but the raptor eventually attached itself to the rock and Bongo and Skulls were ready to get out and try to get inside the object, when a strained voice of Gaeta came through, “Racetrack -- Galactica. The cylon Base just came in range. Withdraw!”

Frak! -- Racetrack cursed under her breath. They were so close.

She looked up from her console, and there, from behind the huge rock she was attached to, emerged a bright, reflecting the light of the sun, one of the thorns of the Basestar.

\---

“Aft bateries have fiering solution,” the officer in charge of weapons announced.

“Sir, the cylons are not shooting,” informed Gaeta.

Adama cast a glance at DRAIDS. The day he’d trust the cylons would be his last.

“Sir,” the Comms officer said. “They are hailing us.”

The Admiral stared at the man with anger and surprise. He was in no mood for conversation. He wanted to shoot and kill. But instead he grumbled, “On speakers.”

“To the Galactica, this is the cylon Basestar. I’m Number Eleven,” a male voice said, then hesitated for a moment. “I might be better known to you as a Cavil Model. We want to negotiate. We have something you want, and you have something we want.”

“Is that right?” Adama asked.

“That is right.” The voice betrayed restrained annoyance. “Sharon Valeri.” He hesitated again. “And her child. As a bonus.”

That was an interesting offer. The triator, but in exchange for--

“What do you want?”

“You’ll give us access to the Temple.”

Adama was prepared to snort and downright refuse, but stopped, startled.

“The Temple?” he gasped, and stared at Laura Roslin who stood opposite from him. Her face told him she thought exactly the same thing.

“The Temple of Five?” they whispered in unison.

The possibility was overwhelming, and – as unbelievable as it was – Adama’s first thought was that Lee somehow got into the Temple and escaped the Nova.

And then, his mind suddenly cleared, he imagined all the implications of such an artifact having the capability to fly, to execute faster than light jumps even. Sharon Valerii’s child didn’t even begin to match it’s worth.

“Clear this space,” ha barked to the cylon. “Or else we’ll destroy you!”

\---

If Adama only knew what made Eleven go for that bargain. If he only knew what made the cylon so livid.

“Shoot them!” Number Eleven yelled, splashing his hand in the electrodynamic fluid.

But the Basestar did not respond. The Hybrid refused a direct order.

Somehow this thing, this non-sentient creature, gained awareness, and with it – free will! And she refused to carry out the cylon’s orders. They were defenseless.

Once more acting against Eleven’s will, the Basestar gracefully moved away, barely outside the Galactica’s weapon range.

“They are going to respond to our wishes,” the Four, standing to the side, said with a smile. “Or rather to the wishes of the Five.”

\---

The Five inside the Temple felt it tremble.

“What was that?” Sam asked, gazing upward.

“Cylons again?” Kara tried a guess. Looked at Lee. “I hope you’re right, and it’s about humans and cylons together. I hope Galactica is out there, too.”

Then she swirled and entered her elevator. Stared at the others, reluctant to follow her.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

The communication between the levels could have been put together in some more clever way, Kara cursed running from her elevator to the one occupied by Sam.

“Keep him here,” she barked pointing at Baltar. “Kill him if you have to, we have no more use of him!”

“I would object,” Baltar squeaked rising a finger, but she ignored him. The elevator was already on the move.

But she didn’t get there in time to catch the one lift allowing her to enter the hall above. It ascended on it’s own.

She stood before it, her heart thumping, breath short. Another lift came up behind her, but she didn’t even look back. The sound of high-heeled footsteps, accompanied by raspy breathing told her who just came. Then unmistakeaby the final two residents of the Temple arrived as well.

They waited, holding their breaths.

And an eternally long moment later, they saw colonial issue flight-suit boots, vacuum-proof bracelets, legs, and a whole body of Skulls.

\---

Apollo, speaking for all the inhabitants of the Temple, refused to leave it and join the Galactica. He refused to let the humans lock Six in a cell, what would undoubtly happen. Kara wanted to object, and Baltar objected outwardly, but nobody listened to him. It was obvious however that if they agreed upon Galactica’s support, the mission would not be fulfilled.

The Sun and the Moon, together.

Lee and Six demanded a meeting, right there, inside the Temple, with the representatives of both races. The ultimatum was difficult for both nations, but after a few days there came Admiral Adama and President Roslin with a group of marines, as well as Numbers Eleven, Three and Four, who brought Sharon and Caprica.

The time that passed allowed not only for Lee to recover enough to lead the meetings, but also for Doctor Baltar to make a few wild guesses, concerning the Temple, that he hoped would save his sorry a*s.

Later, during the negociations it was finally explained to him – as well as to the Six from the Temple – what happened to them. Caprica, seeing him and seeing her other half, finally agreed to be split with her inner Baltar, and all was ready for Baltars and Sixes to be re-integrated.

Except for the Temple Six.

“That boring, mellow plaything is supposed to be a part of me?” she refused, offended. “Never in a thousand years!”

Baltar became one whole self however, and once his mind was complete, he figured out how to tap into the Temple’s Hybrid or whatever that was. He managed to retrieve enough data to be able to map the road to Earth, and once the negotiations between the humans and the cylons ended in agreement, the road there stood open before all of them.

\---  
.the end


End file.
